Under Wing
by reighost
Summary: Prophecies where tricky things and lies are even tricker, Sirius's death becomes a catalyst and Dumbledore's lies crumple like a house of cards. Harry is left with a burning question…Who is he really? Crossover with Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Co-written with the lovely Araciel, who got me back into writing, go read her work, all of it is amazing!
1. Chapter 1

Under Wing

Summary: Prophesies where tricky things and lies are even tricker, Sirius's death becomes a catalyst and Dumbledore's lies crumple like a house of cards. Harry is left with a burning question…Who is he really? Crossover with Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Author's note: Plot Bunny borrowed with permission from the lovely Araciel~! XD Go read EVERYTHING she's written. Seriously go now~!

Chapter 1

Prophecies were tricky things. Tricksy. Slippery. Ephemeral. About as clear as a mudslide. And that was the problem that now faced Albus 'All Knowing' Dumbledore.

He had really screwed the pooch on this Prophesy.

He had arranged everything ever so carefully, and cleverly, in order to bring about Tom's downfall. It was a shame that two of their best and brightest had to pass for it, but sacrifice was a necessary evil in the ruination that was war. And he knew that neither Lily nor James would feel regret in passing when they attempted to protect their young son. Their young son who had brought about the temporary banishment of Voldemort.

At the cost of his life.

He stared down at the still and silent infant. This wasn't supposed to have happened.

Harry Potter was supposed to have survived, become the beacon for the light, a symbol of progress for the magical world, just as much of a political example for the pro-muggleborn as he was a hero for defeating the most evil Dark Lord seen since World War II. He wasn't supposed to have died before he could have even lived.

He had misinterpreted something in the Prophesy.

All his manoeuvring, all his plotting, for naught.

Quick as lightning, his mind drew up and discarded plans. All that could be seen to betray his thoughts was the odd intensity of his eyes as he stared down at the dead baby. A dead baby that he then knelt down beside and picked up, bundling into his robes before he Transfigured a plank of wood into a perfect copy, casting several animation charms, and sound charms. He would cry and scream like any normal child, go into a 'sleep' mode. It would have to do for now. This was in no way a permanent solution. But... well...

He was working on that.

* * *

><p>His mother was sweaty and tired, but there was a smile on her face as his father walked him to her. She was sat up in the funny white bed, a bundle of blue blankets in her arms, her long dark hair was loose and laying across her shoulders in a mess and her blue eyes gleamed as she looked over to him.<p>

"Come say hello to your little brother, Kyo-chan," she cooed as he tottered over to her. He felt his father's hands band around his chest and lift him onto her bed where he clambered to her side, feeling her warmth as she lifted an arm and hugged him to her, supporting him as he tried to get a look at the blankets. "Meet your little brother Takeru," she told him, gently pulling away some of the blankets.

Little Kyo-chan wrinkled his nose as he looked down at his baby brother. In his enlightened opinion, Takeru looked like a messed up potato. He didn't say this of course, he wasn't an idiot. Okaasan would get annoyed with him if he said his brother looked like a potato.

Hibari Kyoya may have only been two, but he was still a genius.

Uncle Fon was taking time out from his work in China to visit for Takeru's first birthday. He usually attempted to visit for every birthday, Okaasan, Otousan, his, and now his little brother's. Sometimes he didn't manage it, but he always tried and always remembered to send gifts, so Kyo didn't mind so much when he couldn't make it. Uncle Fon still tried.

At first, he hadn't been too sure about having a little brother. Takeru hadn't done anything interesting at all. But at least he had stopped looking like a messed up potato. He was pretty smart too, and already he and Kyoya were chattering at one another, even if Takeru didn't understand a lot of what was said, he usually figured it out later or asked Okaasan. He could crawl pretty quickly too, and loved following his older brother around the house, much to their Okaasan's delight – she took many, many pictures. Often times even dressing them up in matching clothes, much to Kyo's disgust.

It was a pain, but he guessed his little brother was alright.

He still called him a Potato when their mother wasn't looking.

* * *

><p>Okaasan was screaming. Furious. Heartbroken.<p>

Uncle Fon was silent, his head bowed, taking the abuse his younger sister threw at him, her face streaming with tears as she screamed about how it was his fault.

Kyoya watched from a crack in the doorway before turning away and going down the hall, by-passing the inner courtyard and heading towards his room. Only he didn't go into it. He kept going until he reached his little brother's bedroom, and slid the door open.

It was clean now. The scorch-marks had been painted over. There was no sign of the broken crib, or shattered glass that was once his window. The wooden shutters were gone, broken, and not yet replaced. The wind was free to steal into the little room with its brightly painted walls. Birds could be seen decorating the sliding screens, yellow canaries and skylarks, sparrows, swallows, parrots, and swans.

Takeru had loved birds.

He loved all small animals really. Hedgehogs especially. The moment he was old enough to know what it was, he dubbed his Kyo-nii a hedgehog.

In revenge for the potato comments.

Kyoya was only four, he knew what was going on, but didn't necessarily understand it.

Someone had taken Takeru away. Okaasan saw him and they got into a fight. But it didn't matter. The person took Takeru away. And Okaasan said it was Uncle Fon's fault. That someone had gone to his boss and wanted a special little boy for something. And one of the men, one of his students, told them about Takeru. So they took Takeru. It didn't matter that Uncle Fon had bartered for his family's safety, they needed a special little boy, and they were being paid more money than they had ever received before to get one. A special little boy from a family of people who weren't special. So the Bosses let them take Takeru away, and tried to make it look like someone they didn't like had done it. But Momma recognized him. The man who took his brother away.

Uncle Fon didn't know. But the person who took Takeru had been his student.

It was his fault.

* * *

><p>Petunia Dursley felt like she had invited a demon into her house for the first four years after her sister's spawn was dropped off on her doorstep. The little black haired, green eyed baby looked and acted like a real child, made all of the same noises that her own baby Dudley had, crawled around like every other baby she'd ever seen or heard of but there had always been something about hi… no it that had her hair standing on end.<p>

It was like taking care of a living, breathing doll, his face was mostly blank and expressionless and the baby operated almost like clockwork. When fed she could expect the food in the diaper within half an hour, whenever he cried he stopped immediately upon being touched regardless of whether or not she continued to pay attention to him. He never complained of being cold or warm, not even when she'd once accidentally upset her mug of tea over all over him one difficult morning she'd been making breakfast for her family.

After a few weeks of living with the… freak of nature she'd gone out and bought a recorder and taped the baby's crying the next time it got worked up, then played it the second it started crying again, every hair on her body had stood up on end when the tape matched the baby's cries perfectly, pitch for pitch. The same thing happened when she videotaped it reacting to other things, she thought she'd been going mad when she first noticed the baby use the exact same sounds and expressions every time she fed it or changed its diaper.

She didn't know what she'd allowed into her house. That thing wasn't a baby, she had no idea what it was but it was. Not. A. Baby. It acted nothing like a real baby, (all she had to do was look at her own son to see the difference) and it scared the ever living daylights out of her, had she had no knowledge of the world that had taken her sister from her she'd have taken it to the nearest church and had it exorcized!

It never got sick, it never got properly tired, it never fussed or whined for extra attention, it never spoke a single word even after four years, the thing had also grown at around the same rate as Dudley but it never walked around for more than a few minutes at a time and never babbled like her son did, she'd never heard so much as a peep from the thing that wasn't it asking for food or 'attention'. She tried over feeding it, she tried starving it, she tried locking it out of her house and eventually in the cupboard under the stairs when the neighbors started to ask questions. Nothing got a reaction. Nothing.

Dudley was a balm to her soul, her husband had taken to pretending the thing didn't exist, the stress of having this near-demonic being living in their house straining their relationship and she was at her wits end trying to keeping everything from falling apart at the seams. If things hadn't changed a month after the thing's fifth birthday… she had hardly any doubts as to what would have happened to her family. Vernon would have left her, probably taken Dudley with him and left her alone with the soulless doll-like creature that her sister had supposedly given birth to.

She wouldn't have lasted a week alone with it.

Without Dudley to comfort her, without her husband providing her a shield at night to hide behind, without a full household to distract her from the void that was her nephew she would have done something permanent, either to herself or to the thing that had been living in her house for the last few years. That she hadn't already tried something permanent was only thanks to her instincts as a mother and Dudley, though had things continued as they had been… she'd have eventually forgotten that the thing was child-shaped and have lashed out lethally.

As it was, she had almost done so anyway, the change the thing had undergone overnight one month past his fourth birthday was jarring. She had shut the thing up in the cupboard under the stairs after feeding it the night before and crawled into bed with her husband between her and the door like normal, slept through the night without hearing so much as a peep and had minced her way down the stairs in exactly the same way she'd done every night since she had started keeping it in the cupboard underneath. She made breakfast, fed her family and then went to feed the little monster.

The change had been immediately apparent.

If her throat hadn't choked the air out of her lungs she'd have emptied them screaming the house down, because while the thing had been insanely freaky it was nothing compared to having it change overnight.

Instead of lying flat on its back like it usually was when it was sleeping her nephew was curled up in a loose ball on the pile of blankets she hurriedly changed every week, instead of the rhythmic, near robotic breaths he's usually breathed in he was breathing softly and his hair had a healthy sheen that made it curl sweetly around his pale face rather than hang limply with the straw like texture it had been the night before.

Hesitant to so much as poke her nephew in case it decided it was going to jump out and bite her she took a step back, the door fell open to swing against the staircase and let out a thump that woke it up, then she witnessed it doing things it had never done before.

It scrunched up its nose. It cringed against the sunlight to bury it's face back into the folds of blanket it had been sleeping on and startled at the thump of wood on wood. It blinked it's eyes rapidly and turned to look at her with green eyes that she noticed for the first time were full of life, but that wasn't what made her want to scream the house down. No.

"Aunt Petunia?"

Even years after the first time she heard his voice she shuddered at remembering his first words. It was like a switch had been flipped and turned on all the lights that had previously been off in the boy's head on to full power and he acted like he hadn't just spent the last four years acting like a soulless husk and that was freaky on a whole other level than he'd been on before!

Suddenly he was speaking, not just speaking but speaking in complete sentences! Not even Dudley was so advanced! He was always talking now, if he wasn't asking questions a mile a minute he was trying to get closer to her son, or he was talking to the neighbors, or strangers in the street or even the birds in the trees!

And he was suddenly more active than all three of the Dursleys put together and always getting into things young children shouldn't. He was under the car, or in the roof, or with his arm sticking in the lawn mower trying to reach a ball, he was up in the trees in the back yard or scaling the fence, it was like he was trying to make up for four years of not moving more than a few steps at a time.

Whatever switch had been flipped in the freak's head had hit full-throttle and overdrive! He was constantly running around from place to place, heedless of any damage he might bring to himself with a reckless abandon of a suicidal maniac. In the years following she lost the fear that she'd one day wake up to see him standing over her with a kitchen knife ala Chucky but was now tearing her hair out at trying to contain the spastic ball of energy that had replaced the automaton!

Also… as if she needed the trade-off of freaky to even freakier… the strangeness that had once been confined to her nephew, and thus contained to inside the cupboard under the stairs, had exploded outwards.

Toys moved on their own, things exploded, clothing shrank or expanded, food went missing and electrical appliances would randomly short out. She had a call from the elementary school that the teacher had her hair turned blue and another to say he'd appeared on the roof! Had she not known about magic she'd have thought her house was haunted!

It was when she had nearly reached the end of her tether that she'd discovered something life-changing… at least for her. The more tired he got, the less he seemed to make things happen around him, if she wore him out and redirected all that spastic energy into other, more normal things, than maybe her situation could be salvageable!

Again Dudley was her saviour here, a little encouragement and he had the freak running around at all hours and kept running whilst at school, utilizing his growing group of friends like the future leader he was growing up to be! After school hours she had the thing doing chores until she shut him away in the cupboard, incidents went from thrice daily to maybe three times a month and her life calmed down enough to almost be considered somewhere approaching… normal.

Years after the change in his personality, when the giant had broken down the door to the hut her husband had secreted their family away in… she had, behind her panic and fear, heard something that almost made her snort despite the situation.

The boy had his mother's eyes? Sure, compare Lily's leaf-green to the boy's unnatural electric green. Of course they must be the same... Whoever this giant was to Lily, clearly his memory was faulty! The boy may have had her sister's husband's looks and had 'the same' green eyes as her sister… but there was nothing of Lily in the freak that had been dropped off on her doorstep.

No matter what anyone said.

Four summers after that particular encounter when her son had come home ash pale, shivering and ready to sick up she had been ready to commit the murder she hadn't been able to bring herself to do all those years ago when the freak had been baby-sized. Dudley had been attacked by monsters that had been aiming for the freak! Worse, Dudley began to pull away from her! Began planning on showing the ungrateful freak compassion it didn't deserve and wouldn't understand.

She had finally reached the end of her patience, she was tired of the stress, the heartache and the constant fear. She was NOT dealing with that for another summer. Not for a single more day. She was done. She'd had enough. Even if she had to go to jail to keep her family safe, she'd gladly do it and she'd do it with her head held high.

Vernon's new shotgun would work. Would have worked all those years ago against that giant had Vernon's compassion not gotten the better of him. Should the freak come back this time… she was ready.

She was done with nursing the little demon. It had taken years away from her, damned if she was going to let it take her son away from her too!


	2. Chapter 2

Harry felt a sense of detachment settle over him at Dumbledore's declaration that it had been his own fault that Sirius had died. Watching the single tear trail down Dumbledore's face to disappear into his beard had a disjointing effect on Harry. It was as if his mind refused to believe his eyes. No. It was more than that, Dumbledore was sitting there trying to convince him he was truly saddened enough by everything he'd put him through… to… cry.

The office was now silent save for the quiet rustlings and peeps coming from Fawkes and the quiet murmurs of the former headmasters as they left their portraits. They had clearly decided that their entertainment was over for the night and were now off to share their juicy new gossip with the rest of the school.

Dumbledore had walked into his office to be greeted by the portraits like he was some kind of super-star, oh so subtly telling him that the friends he had taken with him to the department of mysteries were fine, the "No thanks to you." Sounding over loud and clear. Then he turned around and said he knew how he felt? Everything from the second Dumbledore had stepped out of the fireplace to the last few seconds felt like the Headmaster was trying to pull something over him, almost like the man was an acting out a scene from a script right down to the crocodile tears that were now soaking the man's beard.

Keeping him locked in the room with nowhere to escape. Sitting there so calmly while he desperately tried to leave the room, as if Harry were simply throwing a temper tantrum. Confessing that he had been the one to decide that it was alright to leave him with the Dursleys. That it was _HIS _fault that Sirius died, the tone of voice ringing as false as the sympathy pasted across the old man's face. Then came the heaping load of bullshit that was Dumbledore's excuse for 'distancing himself' from him the entire year… to 'protect' him? And if that wasn't enough, the old man then dropped the pile of dragon dung that was supposedly the whole reason Voldemort had targeted him that Halloween night all those years ago. A prophesy so vague that even Dumbledore himself didn't seem to know what it meant, also… if it had been so bloody important to keep the prophesy a secret why had the headmaster let all the portraits of the previous headmasters watch him reveal it?

Harry sat in his chair stunned, not at the prophesy but at the sheer insanity the headmaster was clearly expecting him to swallow. The tightly coiled heat inside him was bubbling furiously, pulsing with every beat of his pounding heart and threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation. He felt like he was about a hairs breath away from a complete and utter meltdown. He clenched his lax hands into a tight fisting grip over the fabric of his trousers leaned forward, clenching his teeth against the pressure building up inside him and shut his eyes against the thrumming heat pulsating behind his eyes.

The boiling heat inside him was the only reason he noticed the touch of foreign magic brush over his overheated senses to touch ever-so-lightly on his mind, he might not have noticed the faint touch… had it not begun to whisper thoughts that were almost the exact opposite of what he was currently thinking. Whispering words of heightened guilt, worry over the friends in the hospital wing… and most damning were the soft words of trust twining themselves silkily around his thoughts like delicate smoke.

Harry's head snapped up and the headmaster jerked back as if he'd been struck, clearly not having expected him to look up just then and just as clearly not having expected him not to notice that one of his hands was under the desk… with his wand most probably trained directly on him!

Harry didn't remember moving. He didn't even remember drawing his wand up or casting the spell that had the headmaster slamming backwards into the shelf of books behind his desk or catching the headmasters wand out of the air in the same motion it took to stand up and out of his chair. One second he was sitting in the chair opposite the headmasters desk and the next thing he knew he was standing a good foot away with his back to the locked door, feet braced for quick movement and staring down at the limp form of the man that had been attempting to manipulate his thoughts, hands clenched around the wands in his hands.

His magic had exploded from him with the force of a sonic boom.

Books that had been in the shelf the headmaster had fallen into had been tossed out of their places and were shredded and scattered across the floor along with the parchment that had been sitting on the headmaster's desk. Fawkes's stand had tipped over, spilling the squalling hatchling across the carpet to be buried almost completely under his own ashes. The chair he'd been sitting on was in splinters and the headmasters desk had a flaring pattern of cracks radiating out from the side of the desk Harry was currently on to all the way across to the other side. The windows had cracked and shattered outwards and the whirling silver instruments that had been on the desk now lay crumpled and broken on the floor looking like they had imploded.

Dumbledore himself was lying limp across the floor, blood pooling out of a cut on his head, trailing out of both nostrils and pouring out the side of his mouth. For all intents and purposes he looked… dead.

Harry panicked.

He had absolutely no illusions as to what would happen if he was found in the same room as an unconscious, (Or dead. Oh god, please not dead!) Dumbledore. There would be no trial. There might not even be an Azkaban for him. With the way the Ministry felt about him the only thing he'd get was an up close and personal appointment with a Dementor (or Death Eater). The Order might not even help him, sure he was their 'Ace' but this last year proved how valuable he was to Dumbledore, he was a pawn to the old man, one to be picked up and discarded at will.

He cast his eyes over the room looking for a way out and even ran over to the broken windows, punching a large shard of glass out of his way with his elbow and hastily scraping the small bits of broken glass away from the window ledge with his cloak so he could lean out the window, cursing silently under his breath at the sight of sheer drop that greeted him. Summoning his broom to him wouldn't work here, it was chained to Umbridge's wall and trying to summon someone else's broom would only bring unwanted attention to Dumbledore's office, something he really didn't need right now. If he hadn't already attracted that attention via the uncontrolled burst of magic that had gotten him into this situation he wasn't going to push his luck.

Harry stumbled away from the window sill and cast his eyes around the room, wildly looking for something, _anything_ at all that could hopefully get him out of the room. He jerked forward when his eyes caught sight of a familiar sword sticking out of the cupboard Dumbledore had been keeping his pensive in and lunged forward only to pause for a few seconds at an identical looking one sitting right next to it.

He snatched both of them up and charged for the locked door, one of the swords bounced off the wood of the door and jarred out of his hands while the other had bitten deeply into the wood. Wrapping his empty left hand around the handle of the remaining sword he pulled it back out of the wood with a panicked yank and swung again. The wood of the door was impossibly thick and even seemed to be sluggishly repairing itself with every hit harry managed to land, there was no getting out that way and the door knob seemed to be repelling every hit he aimed towards it. He wasted a few more moments uselessly hacking away at the door before stepping back, looking around the room again for another idea.

Desperately stepping away from the door Harry scanned the room, even looking up at the ceiling and along the walls for some clue as to a secret passageway, a hidey hole or nook he could possibly hide in. He was contemplating jumping out the window and the merits of his cushioning charm when his eyes latched onto a small pot that had been sitting on a table near the fire place, one that had been tipped on its side during the explosion that had ripped out of Harry earlier and was now leaking sparkling green powder onto the plush red carpet.

Floo… powder…?

Lunging across the room Harry grabbed up a fist full of the powder and threw it onto the still-burning flames in the fireplace and slammed into it with the same movement, screaming out his destination before the fire had even turned completely green.

It worked.

Impossibly fast, almost too fast for him to register, he was spun into the floo network and out into the basement of Grimmauld place where he dizzily wobbled to his feet. Weaving almost drunkenly over to the closest sink he snatched up the closest movable object, (which turned out to be a half full crate of books) and stuffed the lot into the fire place, kicking at it until it was firmly wedged in and snuffed out the remaining flames with his feet. With the fireplace blocked and the fire put out no one would be able to reopen the floo, not without removing the crate, and there was no way in hell he was going to do that any time soon.

Silence.

After the riot of seemingly amplified noise he'd been surrounded with in the last few hours the silence that greeted him in the basement of Grimmauld Place almost felt like a physical sensation. There was the slow hiss and crackle of cooling fireplace, faint sounds of everyday traffic outside the house and the ticking of the hallway clock echoing down the stairs from the floor above… Nothing more.

Until the silence was broken by a familiar croaking voice, crowing in delight. "Kreacher now belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh, yes, Kreacher now has his new mistress!" Harry heard the house elf crow into the empty house as he thumped his way down the stairs from the ground floor and into the room. The house elf carried a large pile of gleaming silverware Harry hadn't ever seen before over to the sink that and began to stack them away in the overhead cabinet, levitating them into the cabinet that was cleaning and repairing itself before his very eyes.

"Kreacher must have a clean house for Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, mustn't have Kreacher's new Mistress sleeping with where the mudbloods have been~!" the aged house elf continued, completely unaware of his unwitting audience as the kitchen around him seemingly began to clean and repair itself as the peeling wallpaper was re-affixing itself to the wall and brightening to what appeared to be its original colour. "Kreacher is being getting rid of nasty, filthy taint…"

Harry vision went red as he felt his blood boil for the second time in as many minutes. He felt himself move without realizing it and the sword he had forgotten he'd been holding in his hand since trying to hack Dumbledore's door in speared straight down through the unsuspecting house elf.

Harry stood frozen for a few minutes as the blood in his veins cooled down again and the red receded from his vision, his hand freezing around the twisted and awkward angle around the hilt of the sword. He felt his knees begin to shake as the heat seemed to leach away from his limbs and everything began to catch up with him with the same speed as the growing pool of blood that was rapidly reaching out to soak at his sneakers.

He shifted and the slight movement had the sword slipping easily out of the corpse of the house elf in front of him with a slick squelch that had him staggering back on his suddenly weak legs as the body in front of him slumped forward. His heart was throbbing loudly in his ears and the dam that had been holding back the tears he'd hadn't wanted to cry in front of Dumbledore… broke.

"DAMNIT!" Harry screamed as he crumpled to the floor, legs folding out from under him as the strength that had gone into holding him up went directly into the shout. The sword clattered out of his hand and to land beside him with a resounding crash to the floor, sending splatters of still-warm blood up onto the boy sobbing brokenly into his own arms. "DAMN IT! DAMNITDAmnITdamnItdaMNitdo'mb't"

"Harry Potter Sirs is be callin- HARRY POTTER SIR!"

* * *

><p>Consciousness came to him sluggishly. His mouth felt dry, his head was pounding, his hands stung and there was a gut-twisting sensation twisting his insides. He wished the black oblivion he'd been in before he'd woken up would swallow him back up again, judging by the darkness of the room he'd blacked out hours. First time in over a year he'd slept for longer than two hours… and all it took was murdering three people to get it. Hissing in a pained whine at the thought Harry slapped a hand over his face and pressed it against his sore eyes, he felt wrung out and dry, almost numb with grief, curling up onto his side to fold himself back under the blankets.<p>

How had things gone so wrong?

Feeling the hot wash of tears well up again behind his raw eyes he choked back the strangled sob that was trying to escape and twisted further into the blankets he'd woken up in and pressed himself bodily into the mattress. Sirius's death… had shattered any hope that the Magical world would be his escape from the torment that was his life. When Hagrid had first rescued him from the Dursleys his arrival had been almost like a dream come true, the single shining ray of light that would lead him out of the darkness that he'd been living in his whole life and he finally had answers to some of the questions he'd been burning to ask since before he could remember.

He was magic. His parents had loved him, had NOT been drunks who'd died in a car crash! Had in fact died to save his life! He wasn't an abnormal freak! He was the same as everyone else who had magic! He could make friends! There were people out there who liked him, people who even looked up to him!

Not even learning that he was considered a celebrity could dampen that impossibly brilliant hope that had come to life inside him, in fact if he had to admit it, it had even felt the tiniest bit flattering the way some people would fall over themselves just because he was nearby. It quickly got very old, very quickly but it had gone a long way into soothing away the years of pain from the Dursley family's insults, clearly the Dursleys were, and had always been, _wrong_! He wasn't worthless. Clearly he was important to _someone_! At the beginning he could have stood against anything anyone could have thrown at him and just shrugged it off. Had in fact done so, he had friends that would support him, people who believed in him! The feeling had almost made him feel invincible.

That feeling had persisted for quite a while, dampening under having being revealed as a parselmouth but strengthening again at the end of second year, yeah people had pulled back away from him but they'd gotten the wrong impression, they'd just been startled! It was perfectly understandable that they'd been uncomfortable with his not-so-secret talent, after facing down a basilisk he wasn't too sure he liked his ability to speak to snakes now either, no matter how cool it had been back with the boa constrictor when he was eleven.

Getting chased around a dungeon by a thousand year old basilisk at the command of someone else with the exact same ability had that effect on a guy.

Third year had been the brightest year of his life, his fondest and most heartfelt wish had come true, here was someone who was family, someone who wanted to adopt him! Even if he had to wait to make his dream of being free of the Dursleys a reality, here was hope! Every one of his childish wishes come true! Someone who loved him simply because he was family, someone who wanted him not because he was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, but because he was Harry James Potter, his godson.

Sirius, who had been his rock during the whole debacle that had been the Triwizard Tournament, the lifeline he'd clutched at when Ron had turned his back on him and had been the only reason why he hadn't fallen completely apart at Cedric's death the year before, someone he didn't have to put on a face for and could be himself with. As much as he loved Ron and Hermione for being his first friends… being friends with them felt like he was constantly one step away from tripping over the edge of the, seemingly, very delicate line that was their friendship. He learned the hard way from Hermione in third year not to push too hard against her ideals of right and wrong, she'd just go straight to a teacher and from Ron…

Where had the Ron of their third year gone? Where was the boy who had stood up with a broken leg to shield him against a Death Eater? Sure Sirius had turned out to have been innocent but Ron hadn't known that back then. After that Harry would have willingly died for the red head, would have stood with him against the world should the boy have asked for it… and even if he didn't ask. What had he done to push Ron away from him? There had just been a few months in between the end of third year and the beginning of fourth, what could have changed so drastically? It was barely less than three months! The friendship and loyalty… where had all that gone? Had he been the only one who'd cherished their friendship so closely?

Feeling his throat tighten again as his lips twisted, Harry let go of the blanket he'd been clutching at and pushed himself up, furiously swiping at his seemingly endlessly leaking eyes, why couldn't he stop crying? Hadn't he had enough of crying years before Hogwarts?

What was he going to do now that he'd just cut away the one true lifeline he had tying him to the wizarding world? To that fact what was he going to do now that he'd also practically murdered the headmaster? Within the space of a few hours Harry had managed to completely cut away both his childhood dream of living with a loving family and the only home he'd ever known, Hogwarts would never be home to him now, not with his having killed the headmaster within her own walls!

Harry jerked at the reminder and choked a little, scrambling up out of the seeming sea of blankets he'd woken up in and felt around till his hand hit the edge of a bedside table, a quick pat-down produced Dumbledore's wand first, then his and then his glasses. What was he doing, wallowing around in bed when practically any second Aurors would be hunting him down for what he'd just done? He could mourn later, he needed to get as far away from England as possible!

His mouth twisted bitterly, seemed that he'd be following in Sirius's footsteps after all.

Shoving Dumbledore's wand into his pocket and lighting the tip of his own with a muttered "Lumos" Harry had a brief moment of panic when he took in the red and gold of the sheets and pillows he'd been twisted around in and thought that Dobby had somehow managed to transport him into Gryffindor Tower when he'd accidentally summoned the house elf, but ripping aside the red and gold bed curtains revealed a room done in Slytherin green and silver.

His mind blanked for a minute, the juxtaposition of a Gryffindor bed in a Slytherin room throwing him for a moment before he remembered. When Dobby had found him crumpled in the basement of Grimmauld Place the house elf had chivvied him quickly out of the room and into the closest bathroom, he'd been too far gone in grief and shock to realize it but Dobby had him cleaned him up, dressed in a pair of pyjama's he could now see were obviously filched from Hogwarts infirmary and tucked away to bed in the cleanest room in the house.

Regulus's room. Which had been swept clear of the newspaper articles of Voldemort and Slytherin banners from the walls and the bed, as he'd noted earlier, had been redressed in Gryffindor colour's, the bedclothes of which had most probably been liberated from Hogwarts as well. The room had been cleaned right down to the carpet and even the air seemed to be cleaner, he couldn't even see a speck of dust drift across the beam of light he was shining around the room from his wand-tip.

The first step he took out of bed almost had his legs folding out from underneath him, he grabbed at the nearby desk chair and waited until it felt like he could hold his own weight and stepped forward again, forcing his legs to move. He had to leave, he had to push everything aside until he could deal with it without fear of being thrown into Azkaban or worse, he wouldn't even be safe in Grimmauld Place for much longer, this was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and given what he'd done to their leader…

"Would Harry Potter Sirs be liking breakfast?"

Harry nearly leapt out of his skin, startling at the sharp pop that had interrupted his thought process and the voice, as it was he tripped backwards over the desk chair that he'd been using to help steady his feet and pulled it down with him, ending up with it falling on top of him as he fell over his own feet, backside stinging as he hit the ground.

Dobby was at his side within an instant, nearly falling over himself in his rush to help Harry to his feet and pushing the chair up off him with a click of his fingers, the chair righting itself and pushing to the side where the house elf proceeded to try and brain himself with it.

"Oh no, Dobby is sorry! Bad Dobby! Dobby is must not be scaring Harry Potter Sir! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" the house elf yelped as Harry lunged forward to tackle the elf, wrapping his own arms around him to stop the punishment the house elf was delivering to himself.

"Don't! Just… don't!" Harry croaked, forcing the words out of his sore throat and coughing to clear it, pulling the house elf further into his arms to smother the continued efforts at self-punishment. Dobby froze at the 'order' and went still in his arms and not trusting the elf to not continue with hurting himself the second he let go Harry instead turned the house elf around so they were facing each other.

"Dobby what's going on? Has anyone started looking for me here yet? Oh no, is the door locked? Dobby we have to lock the house down so no one can get in! I remember blocking the floo but…" he trailed off mid-sentence and paled, letting go of Dobby and scrambling for the door, forcing his legs cooperate this time and thundering down the stair cases to the ground floor as fast as he could, earning himself more than a few bruises on his rush to the front door.

Grimmauld Place was protected with every protection 'known to wizard kind' as Moody had told him the first time he'd been introduced to the house, warded from the basement to the roof tiles the only way in or out of the house was through the floo… or the front door. The front door that he had no idea was locked or not.

Harry skidded on the last stretch to the door, tripped up on the rug in the hallway while trying to avoid the troll leg umbrella stand and almost fell face first into the door, he pushed himself off it and frantically scrabbled his hands over the door, finding the latch and locking it. It wouldn't hold the door against anyone with a key though, Dumbledore had made sure that all the key members of the Order had copies of the front door key, that meant Moody and McGonagall, Snape and Kingsley to name just a few. Panicking for another few minutes Harry grabbed at the door chain only to bite back a curse as the chain practically crumbled at his touch.

"Damn it!" he swore as he dropped the pile of rust to the floor, looking around for a way to bar the door against intrusion when Dobby scared him for the second time in as many minutes by speaking up again, having followed him out of Regulus's room without him noticing.

"Harry Potter Sir is wanting the door locked? Dobby can do that!" the house elf said, hopping in front of Harry to eye the lock.

"C… can you make sure no one can get in? E…veryone in the Order has a key! I don't want anyone getting in here!" he stuttered at the excitable house elf, who had changed from depressed at having startling him to bouncing with excitement at being able to help him.

Dobby snapped his fingers and the lock changed in front of his eyes, transfiguring from the dark and tarnished silver it had been to a gleaming gold, the door knob itself changing from its sleek silver design into a roaring lions head.

"Now they is not be having the RIGHT key!" Dobby declared proudly as Harry tested the new door handle, the fizzing tingle of active magic sparking across his palm, Dobby hadn't even disturbed the spells keeping the door and lock tamper-proof. He almost slumped with relief, at least that was one problem taken care of!

Taking a quick peek out the peep-hole Harry jerked back in shock at the sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt and skipped back several steps as the door handle rattled, backing away from the door with his heart beating at the close call, he'd just dodged a bullet there!

"Dobby can you get my things for me? From Hogwarts? Everything I left behind?" Harry asked as he turned to run to the end of the entrance hall where the narrow staircase led down into the basement kitchen, he needed to check the floo just in case anyone tried to get in that way, if people were already trying to get back in through the front door then they had to be trying the floo right now!

"Dobby will! Dobby will get everything for Harry Potter Sir!" The house elf exclaimed before disappearing with a sharp 'Pop!', leaving Harry alone in the eerily quiet house as he took the narrow stairs down into the kitchen at a break-neck pace, eyes trained on the floo as soon as he got a clear look.

His heart leaped into his throat at the sight of small tendrils of smoke floating up from the fireplace and the reddening of stones in the fireplace, the wooden crate of books he'd left there was smoking slightly and looked about three seconds away from catching on fire, it was as if the fireplace itself was trying to relight a fire.

Harry knew better than to believe that, not after last year and the fiasco that had been Arthur Weasley's idea of 'picking him up' for the Quidditch Word Cup. A floo connection could be forced open from the other end if you had the right connection and enough floo powder, just like what had happened with the Dursleys in the year before, the twins had been falling all over themselves in joy at what they had called a "Spectacular Explosion" that they, for once, hadn't had a hand in and at the time he had thoroughly enjoyed their side of the story, but for now…

Sprinting over to the sink he grabbed the basin of soapy dish water and heaved it over to the fire place and dumped it directly onto the stones. Harry had once found it extremely irritating that every floo connection he'd ever stepped through, minus the entry of his Aunt's temporary connection, had steps built into them, now he was finding himself grateful that the floo for Grimmauld place was the same, trip hazard or no, the stone fire-pit was perfect for filling with water!

"… lucky it hadn't been raining…" Harry muttered under his breath as he poured the dish water out of the basin and into the fire-pit, tossing the basin back into the sink as he remembered Fred and George coursing that last bit, watching the hiss and bubble of the water as it forcibly cooled down the over-heated stones and watched the books in the smoking wooden crate become waterlogged. A floo connections only weakness? The connecting side had to be completely dry, any moisture and you didn't have a floo connection. Thank everything that Harry managed to remember that little piece of information in his panic!

Stepping back from the fireplace now that it was in no danger of letting anyone into the room Harry went to rinse his hands off in the sink when he realized that he was standing in almost the exact spot he'd killed Kreacher when he'd first arrived. The area was clean now and the aged house-elf's body was nowhere to be seen but the guilty twist his insides made at the sight of the nicked stone where Gryffindor's sword had cut into floor made him feel sick, Dobby had to have cleaned up the 'mess' he'd left behind when he'd blacked out earlier...

Wobbling weakly up the stairs up to the ground floor Harry cautiously approached the front door again and took another look through the peep-hole and winced at the sight that greeted him, Order members were loitering around the street outside Grimmauld Place and none of them looked happy to be there. The door handle rattled again and Harry, as he hadn't seen anyone at the peep-hole, jumped backwards like a startled cat and tripped over the troll-foot umbrella foot stand that he'd managed to avoid on his previous inspection of the door and the contents, thee ratty umbrellas and inexplicably the self-same sword Harry had been thinking of earlier clattered out with enough noise to wake the dead…

… or at least the painting of Mrs Black.

"FREAKS!" a voice shattered into the silence of the house, easily drowning out the noise of the door handle rattling and spearing straight through Harry like a lightning bolt as the curtains on the portrait of Mrs Black's portrait ripped open. "SCUM OF THE EARTH! FILTHY MUDBLOO-"

Harry who had automatically gone to catch the umbrella stand and right its contents grabbed at the sword that was practically already in his hand and swung up to stab the screaming portrait in the face, panting sharply and shaking at the fright the woman had given him. Yanking the blade out of the now silent picture he stared at the now unmoving picture and pressed his free hand over his eyes, moving his glasses up out of the way for the moment as his head pounded. He… had forgotten about the portraits.

Why had Dobby thought the umbrella stand was the perfect place to put it was anyone's guess but he had to be grateful for it at the moment, feeling the small lump of satisfaction at destroying the portrait, he was in no mood to listen to Sirius's mother badmouth anyone right now. Taking a moment to massage the bridge of his nose to ease his aching head he stared at the sword in his hand and contemplated the dead portrait in front of him. He knew that now the Order had no way of reaching him through the front door or the Floo that they'd try and talk to him, which meant that someone would sooner or later send the late headmaster Phineas to lure him out of the house.

If he could successfully remove Mrs Blacks portrait, Phineas's portrait could possibly be removed the same way. He wondered which would give way before the other, Black Family Permanent Sticking Charm or would Gryffindor's Sword work to cut it away from the wall? Harry lined the sword along the back of the portrait and pushed the tip forward, not really expecting it to work when he'd seen just about every Order member the last summer try this exact same thing with various other implements but surprising himself when the sword slid behind the portrait and the wall like it was slicing through butter, like the permanent sticking charm on the wall was barely even there.

It was the work of about a minute or so to pry Sirius's mother from the wall. He suspected that most of the enchantments holding her to the wall had died with the personality in the portrait for it to so easily slide off the wall even WITH the sword's help. Stalking up the stairs to the first floor Harry slammed into the bathroom that Hermione and Ginny had shared during their stay in the house and dropped the portrait into the bath tub and continued through the house.

There were no portraits in the basement so he didn't have to go back down there and the only portrait on the ground floor was Mrs Blacks but on the first floor alone there were three more portraits that Harry managed to pry off the walls and drop into the bathtub with Mrs Blacks portrait. Killing the personalities in the portraits seemed to be the most effective way of getting them off the walls as he got the chance to test out on the last picture on the first floor, a drunk looking old woman with Sirius's grey eyes and Mrs Black's nasty mouth only minus her set of lungs.

Working his way up Harry removed all the portraits he could find in the house with cold efficiency, choosing a bathtub on each level and dumping the lot inside and closing the door just in case the portraits woke up or had a personality that had been hiding when he killed the main one. Phineas Black's portrait in the room he had shared with Ron on the second floor was empty when he got to it so he simply cut the canvas free of the frame and dumped it with the rest of the portraits on that floor, systematically working his way through the house with grim resolve.

If he was going to make a run for it without anyone catching him, Ministry or Order, he wasn't going to leave any witnesses or clues for the portraits to report back to the order. Portraits were nothing if not incurable gossips which explained why Phineas's portrait was still empty, it was probably still back at Hogwarts doing just that, gossiping like the windbag he was.

When he returned Gryffindor's sword to the troll-foot umbrella stand Harry stepped back away from it and carefully pushed the stand towards the corner near the door with his foot so he wasn't in any danger of tripping over it again or taking it out to use. He became dangerously stab-happy just holding it and he didn't really like or trust how it felt or fit in his hand, it was way too easy to use and that terrified him, especially given how quick he'd been to kill Kreacher with it.

Resolutely turning his back on it he pointedly ignored the front door as the door-knob startled rattling again, safe in the knowledge that for the moment the house was protected from entry via Apparition or Port-key by the wards. The floo was blocked and would stay blocked until the last drop of water evaporated from the fire-pit, the only other feasible way into the house would be via Phoenix Flame and Harry didn't even have to worry about that for a while as Fawkes was a hatchling at the moment and phoenixes grew at the same rate as any other bird regardless of their immortal status, he wouldn't be capable of letting out a single lick of flame until he was old enough to start flying.

A series of muffled thumps from the floor above had Harry freezing for a moment, the next he had his wand in his hand and he was taking the stairs up two and three at a time, someone was upstairs and he had no idea who they were or how they had gotten into the house! Following his ears he slowed down to a stop outside the drawing room where most of the Order meetings had taken place, readied his wand and cautiously peered around the corner… only to gape at the sight that greeted him.

Within the hour or so since he had last been in the room to 'take care' of the rooms portraits, every available inch of space was covered in books, crates, trunks and assorted piles of clothing, he could see his beloved firebolt sitting precariously on top of a pile of Gryffindor Quidditch gear. Stepping into the room almost involuntarily he took in the chairs that were now serving temporary table duty for assorted odds and ends and the crowded room and the triumphant looking house elf organizing a set of violently purple robes into a neatly folded pile next to what Harry recognized was his own trunk. Holding up an arm to support Hedwig as she glided across the room to land on his shoulder, Harry gave her absent pet as he took in the chaos.

"Dobby what's all this?" He asked, lowering his wand from where he'd had it trained on the elf. "I just asked you to get MY things, not all this!"

"Dobby didn't know where everything was, so Dobby found out and got everything of Harry Potter Sir's for him! Dobby got everything with Harry Potter Sir's magical signature, sir!"

"You expect me to believe this belongs to me?" he retorted, moving his arm to lower Hedwig onto the back of a chair so he could snatch up the set of purple robes the house elf had been folding and holding it out in front of him at shoulder height where the fabric reached the floor and piled up onto the floor. The excess fabric would have had Harry tripping over himself even with him holding them up out of the way of his feet. These were robes sized for an adult. A _tall_ adult.

"It is be having Harry Potter Sir's magical signature on it!" Dobby defended, snapping his fingers so that a soft glow emanated from the trailing robe. Harry blinked at the golden tone and stared, because yeah, that WAS the exact same shade of magic as his own. Divination might have been useless as far as a taught class went but it had taught him to, at the very least, recognize the colour of his own magic.

"… but how could my magic have gotten on these robes? I've never seen these robes in my li-" he stopped himself mid-word and frowned at the robes in his hands, putting it at arm's length and holding it up thoughtfully before his eyes widened. He was wrong he HAD seen these robes before!

"These are Lockheart's robes!" he exclaimed, lowering them down to stare at the stack of robes sitting next to his trunk, putting the robes in his hands aside to dig through the pile and pull up robe after robe. The gold set of 'duelling' robes Lockheart had tried to duel Snape in, the vomit inducing pink robes he'd worn on Valentine's day, the ruby red and peacock green robes he'd spent Christmas in… "Why are Lockhearts robes covered in my magic?" Harry mumbled faintly, not really expecting an answer but turning to House Elf for an explanation.

"Dobby knows! Harry Potter Sir has been defeating him, so these things is belonging to Harry Potter Sir now! It is be called 'right of conquest!' Dobby is be hearing it Sir Cadogan!"

"Sir… Cadogan…" Harry repeated, dropping the robes he had gathered back onto the table and stowing his wand back into the pocket of his pyjamas so he could rub at his forehead with both hands. The portrait of the 'knight' that had stood temporary guard of Gryffindor Tower when Sirius had 'rearranged' the Fat Lady's portrait in third year. No. He didn't want to know anymore. Thinking about Dobby and Sir Cadogan holding a conversation was going to do his head in if he kept thinking about it, he was just going to brush it aside and not think about it, he had more important things to stress his mind over.

Like what he was going to do with everything Dobby had filled the drawing room with.

"Ok… Dobby, can you move all the clothes into a pile in the corner of the room for me? Line all the books up against the wall and get the table and all the chairs except Hedwig's out of the room, let's see if we can sort through all this shall we?" Harry directed, pushing aside any other thoughts and pulling his trunk off the table and setting it on the floor. He'd first planned on taking his things and running but… he wasn't about to turn aside this unexpected 'windfall'. Besides which it wasn't like Lockheart was going to miss his belongings, he was still locked away in St Mungos.

Pushing his own trunk into a free corner of the room Harry pushed up his sleeves and dug into the remaining trunks, pausing briefly as the chairs and table vanished like he'd wanted and the crate and trunks still on the table settled on the floor-space. Lockheart's trunks were easy to spot, two gold capped mahogany trunks with multiple the keys still dangling in the locks, which was a spot of good fortune because the trunks looked to have a rather rune-heavy lock, lucky the man had been in the middle of packing when Harry had 'defeated' him.

Vanishing the contents of the crate of autographed posters Dobby had also brought along Harry pushed the crate across the room to the opposite side of the room to serve as his 'bin' and moved on. He paused to pick up what he recognized as Lockheart's wand on the way where the crate had been and pocketed it next to his own wand and Dumbledore's, he was going to end up with a collection of them at this rate.

Pausing for a moment to open and toss all the clothes in Lockhearts two trunks over to the growing pile of clothing in the corner of the room Harry gave the contents a cursory look over and shut them closed. The whole lot was basically full of the wizarding equivalent of a woman's makeup bag, jewellery boxes, a sack heavy with Galleons, DADA books, and a set of handwritten journals. There was even a rather upscale potions kit with pre-made potions, gifts in various stages of wrapped and unwrapped and a compartment in each of the multi-locked suitcases, similar to the one that had kept Moody captive for an entire year, held an assortment of fan-mail that Harry vanished before shutting the trunks and setting them aside.

With all of Lockhearts belongings out of the way Harry was beginning to see that most of the mess he had been dealing with were Lockheart's clothing, the ones the man hadn't been able to shove into his trunks before he'd interrupted him in his packing. Lockhearts DADA books quickly joined the others against the wall and what was left of the mess that had made the room look so uncomfortably crowded was a couple of other trunks with the keys still in the lock. He found another wand that he picked up off the floor and slipped into his pocket, absently wondering if his growing collection of wands was going to get any bigger. The contents of the next trunk was full of books, which Harry took out and lined up against the wall with the rest, DADA books again, clothing in more subdued tones and styles than Lockheats but tellingly male. There were also several folds of cloth that would have been unrecognizable had it not been for the reek of old garlic emanating from the fabric. Turbins. Which meant this had once been Quirrell's trunk. Several odds and ends, reams of parchment with scrawled out calculations and notes on Hell Hounds had Harry shaking his head and shoving the trunk against the wall. Nothing really useful in THAT trunk.

Picking through the mess again, he lined up a distinct pile of silver goblets, tarnished jewellery, a hand mirror with half polished silver back and shook his head, the Black family crest telling him where the they had come from. These were the things Dung had stolen from Grimmauld Place. He recognized Sirius's school trunk before he opened it, the man's initials and the scratched and half destroyed crest on the lid giving away who the trunk belonged to. Sitting on top of it was a small mirror that Harry carefully pocketed, he'd sort through the contents when he wasn't in danger of falling all over himself again...

Harry felt his eyes sting and his throat begin to close up, pausing briefly to rest his forehead against the trunk as he was pushing it into the corner he grit his teeth, forced his hands to stop trembling and swallowed back the tears that were threatening to fall. Breathing sharply in and out through his teeth he carefully swiped the corners of his eyes free of moisture with his sleeves. He pushed aside the next two trunks the same way, one embossed with the Potter family crest and the next with the initials L.E. burnt into the wood of the top. Again he didn't have to open them to figure out who they belonged to so he simply pushing them into the corner without really glancing at them.

The next chest was a Gringotts chest, the banks crest burnt into the wood. He opened it to the first compartment and shut it just as quickly, his head spinning at the cavernous room filled with gold.

"Dobby? Did you take everything out of my Gringotts account for me?" he asked faintly as he turned the key that had been in the lock to open the next compartment, this one filled with furniture, bedding, books and other assorted odds and ends.

"Dobby did! Harry Potter Sir is be needing to leave yes? Then Harry Potter Sir is not to be leaving anything behind! Dobby is be making sure of that!" The house elf grinned, bouncing away from the pile of, now neatly folded, clothing and over to where Harry was staring down at the carefully organized trunk he was looking into.

Harry closed his eyes at that and closed the trunk for a moment, leaning his head against it. That… was something he was going to question further later, but for now he'd just found the perfect thing to store Sirius's and his parent's trunk AND the growing mountain of books Dobby had liberated from who knew where. He was pretty sure he now had enough books to complete his own wizarding education at least three times over and his collection of DADA books was going to be an interesting read. Later. When he felt less likely to break down at the slightest provocation.

With Dobby's help the books against the wall were transferred into the Gringotts trunk and Harry busied himself with collecting the keys from the assorted trunks as the House elf fit his Parent's and Sirius's trunks into it, piling in all the things Dung had stolen from Grimmauld Place as an after-thought. Now all that was left in the room aside from the Gringotts Trunk was his own school trunk, Lockheart's and Quirrell's trunks and the empty crate he had pushed aside earlier were the pile of assorted clothing, a small delicately carved white box, a large and heavy looking trunk, and a lone locket.

Harry went to pick up the locket but paused with his hand barely a hairs breath away, skin prickling with unease and snatched his hand back sharply when Hedwig, who had been watching him quietly from her perch on the back of the only chair left in the room, let out a piercing shriek that had him jumping away from it to almost halfway across the room. The owl swooped down from her perch to put herself squarely between him and the locket, fluffing up angrily at it and looking for all the world like she wanted to attack it while at the same time looking like she didn't want to touch it at all. She stalked it angrily from side to side and eyed it sharply as if it would jump up and bite at any moment.

"Dobby? Where did you get this? No, don't touch it!" Harry asked, grimacing as he bodily picked up the House Elf that had been about to reach for the locket on the floor, having been drawn over from sorting through the contents of the Gringotts trunk at the sound of her shriek.

Hedwig hadn't ever acted like this before, not to anything she had seen but she was the smartest owl that he'd ever come across. She wouldn't act or react like this for any reason short of real danger. He knew that if he went to touch the locket right now with her standing next to it she'd bite him, she was trying to protect him to the best of her ability. Looking at it now from a safe distance it wasn't hard to tell why the innocent looking jewellery had made him feel so uneasy and Hedwig act so uncharacteristically violent. The thing was moving on its own now, rattling on the floorboards like it knew how close it had come to catching him unaware.

"D… Dobby is be finding it in nasty Kreacher's pillowcase." The house-elf replied mournfully, his ears flattened against his head and one of his hands rising to try and twist at the edge of one before Harry shifted his hold on the House-elf into a full bear hold to lock the Elf's hands by his sides.

"It's cursed…" Harry observed from he was looking at it from a safe distance, watching Hedwig stalk around the locket. Lowering Dobby from his arms Harry quickly shoved a book into Dobby's hands to stop him from twisting at his own ears and told him to not to move. "I know just what to do with something like this… Hedwig, don't let Dobby hurt himself!" he called over his shoulder as he sprinted from the room and down the flight of stairs to the ground floor. He snatched up Gryffindor's sword from the umbrella stand and sprinted back to the room, carefully keeping a firm grip on the sword so he didn't accidentally impale himself as he ran through the house.

"Ok…" he breathed, eyeballing the locket on the floor, "… Hedwig, Dobby, move back for me will you? If this thing is anything like Riddle's diary I don't want anything that comes out of this thing to touch you!" he said, leveling the sword at the locket on the floor. Hedwig hopped up onto Dobby's shoulder as the House Elf backed up to stand by the wall.

Lining up the tip of the blade with the main body of the locket, which had started to rattle like a trapped cockroach, he stabbed down at it, spearing it through the body, shearing it almost in half and a deafening shriek pierced through the air as a black vapor rose from the remains to dissipate into the air. Harry carefully scooping the remains up onto the the flat of the sword and dropped the lot into the crate he had been using as a bin, snagging a robe from the folded pile nearby to wiped the blade down. Dropping the cloth over the broken locket he leaning the sword up against the wall just in case he came across anything else like the locket and turned away from it. He only had the two other boxes left to go, hopefully he wouldn't need the sword again…

Feeling his head start to throb again Harry reached for the chair that had been serving as Hedwig's perch and sagged into it, dropping his face into his hands as the headache he had woken up with and been fighting against these last few hours decided it wasn't to be ignored anymore. "Dobby can you get me a headache potion or something?" he asked weakly. Pulling his glasses off he rubbed a hand across his eyes and pressing a hand to his forehead to ease the ache. "… and maybe something to eat?" he added wryly when his stomach decided to join in on letting him know it wasn't happy, gurgling loudly in the room.

"Dobby will! Dobby will be doing that right away!" the elf exclaimed, disappearing a second later with a sharp pop, prompting Hedwig into hopping to the floor then up into the air for a brief while so she could safely land on his shoulder, nestling into his neck so she could preen at his hair comfortingly.

"Thanks Hedwig…" Harry murmured, reaching up to gently card his fingers through her feathers and press his cheek against them, more than thankful her intervention, wondering if he would have touched the locket without her warning, if the prickling of unease he'd felt before touching it would have been enough for him avoid it.

Dobby appeared moments later with another sharp pop with a school desk obviously liberated from Hogwarts, enough food to feed three people and the headache potion he'd asked for, most probably liberated from the Hospital wing. Slugging back the potion he shuddered at the taste and reached for the glass of water Dobby helpfully handed to him, eying the full spread of food on the desk with a wince. He didn't feel like eating at all, even with his stomach complaining and nearly aching for food, he knew he had to eat something but…

Picking up a few slices of buttered bread Harry resolutely picked through the offerings on the heaped plate in front of him to make himself a sandwich and forced it down, washing it back with a goblet of pumpkin juice Dobby pushed into his hands before reaching for the rest. He hadn't eaten since dinner the night before, almost a whole day earlier, also… he needed the energy if he was going to make a successful run for it.

If he was truly going to stay one step ahead of the Ministry and the Order… then he was going to have to ditch his wand. Hesitating only momentarily as he reached a hand into his pocket Harry pulled the holly and phoenix-feather wand that had been his constant companion since his first entrance into the wizarding world and tossed it into the corner of the room. He kept his eyes stubbornly fixated on his plate instead of watching for where it fell and coughing through his suddenly dry throat.

Taking a moment to clench and release his fists, flex his fingers and crack a few knuckles he dug into his pocket for the first wand he could reach. He had three wands to choose from, it wasn't like he was lacking for options here, with the trace on his wand done for he need to tell if he had any tracking spells or the like on his belongings. Eyeballing his trunk Harry kicked it open and cast the revealing charm, half expecting to have one, maybe two of his belongings light up with the resulting glow of a tracer spell, which was why he was caught completely unprepared for the blaze of light that hit him.

Ripping his glasses off his face as he turned his back to the trunk Harry hastily raised his borrowed wand to his now glowing glasses and shouted "Finite Incantatem!", feeling accomplished when the glow in his hand faded at having gotten rid of the tracer someone had apparently decided to place on his goddamned glasses!

The feeling didn't last very long though, as he'd apparently overloaded the counter-charm and accidentally dispelled the numerous spells and charms that had been the only thing holding his glasses together for the last few years. Bits and pieces dropped to the floor, most bouncing right out of his hastily cupped hands.

"Damn it!" he swore, kneeling down to blindly scoop up whatever scattered pieces he could reach into a pile. "Oculus Reparo?" Harry tried, pointing in what was hopefully the right direction and cast the spell, petting the area afterwards and breathing a sigh of relief as his fingers met his now repaired glasses.

Swiping at water at the edge of his eyelashes with a quick sleeve Harry blinked the spots out of his eyes and pushed his glasses back into place, shielded his eyes with his hands as he turned around to look at his trunk and winced at the fierce light that greeted him. When he had cast the revealing charm… he hadn't really expect THIS as an outcome. His trunk was currently vomiting rainbows. Everything he owned was glowing in a wide range of colours, strings of light reaching up and out of it and fading off out of range of the revealing spell he had cast, almost as if his trunk was the proverbial pot of gold sitting at the end of a leprechaun's rainbow.

He gaped. Exactly how many people…?

Sitting back on his heels for a moment so he could cast a charm on his glasses that gave the lenses a dark tint Harry turned away briefly so he wouldn't blind himself and winced when he looked back anyway, waiting for the charm on his glasses to adjust to the light again before daring to poke through his own belongings. The majority of his school things were covered in thin tendrils of delicate light, suggesting tracers set by his fellow students. These mostly included his school books, book bag, quill-set and ink pots. Even his roll of parchment hadn't escaped being tagged, he counted at least eleven separate tracers off it alone, trailing off into the distance. His clothing wasn't even spared, if anything the tracers got worse once he got to his clothing. Every cloak, tie, shirt, undershirt, trousers and even his UNDERWEAR was tagged.

Getting up and dragging the crate that was his rubbish bin for the night over to where he was sitting Harry started levitating his things in, ignoring the way his skin was crawling, the way the hair on his arms was standing on end and the way his stomach was threatening to make him revisit the meal he'd just wolfed down. There were just too many individual tracers on his belongings to get rid of. Even if he cast a wide-set spell to capture as many of them as he could… he might still miss a few, and given the sticky nature of tracking spells, they'd transfer over to anything they touched for long enough. So yeah, he wasn't going to be touching anything in his trunk that was glowing overly much.

The thin tracers set by students weren't the only ones reaching up out of his trunk. Thick cords attached to his text books said otherwise, the subjects tagged by these lines suggesting exactly who had done the tagging. Snape had tagged his cauldron, his Quidditch gear and sneakily enough his shoes with a dark green cord. Old and faded cords connected to past DADA books. Quirrell, Lockheart, Professor Lupin and even Crouch Jr seemed to have done the same.

Snape had also tagged the Marauder's Map. So had the twins, given the amber chain that snaked away from the folded and aged parchment. Most likely a failed attempt to keep track of and keep an eye on his safety. It was when he got to the things he kept close to the bottom of his trunk that he began to see the same thick silver-blue light that had been glowing off his glasses. Connected to the things he considered most precious to him, the photo album he'd gotten from Hagrid, the sneakoscope he'd gotten from Ron for his birthday, the letters he's sent back and forth to Sirius… and when he got up to check his broom for the same tracking charms… it too was glowing with several thick cords of light as well as a decent handful of thin student-cast trackers.

His heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

If he cast the dispelling charm on his broom, his sneakoscope, or even the photo album he could, and probably WOULD, disrupt the other spells tied to the object he was trying to free of trackers. Like he'd just done with his own glasses.

He… was going to have to leave them behind.

Summoning another robe from the pile in the corner again Harry had it spread open in front of him and carefully levitated the tracking-spelled items onto the fabric. He folded the cloth over the lot and banished the resulting bundle over into the same area of the room he'd tossed his wand, resolutely turning back to his now almost empty trunk with dry eyes, breathing somewhat raggedly but otherwise fine.

He needed to be. No. He HAD to be fine. He didn't want to waste any more time having another breakdown.

The only things left in his trunk were now empty sweet wrappers, his tracer-free invisibility cloak, crumpled and scrunched up scraps of parchment, broken quills, the pair of socks Dobby had once made for him, again strangely tracer-free, and a small parchment-wrapped parcel that was the last thing in his trunk completely untouched by tracking spells. Picking it out from the trash at the bottom of his trunk along with the socks and his invisibility cloak Harry kicked aside his empty trunk and settled what was left of his life at Hogwarts in his lap as he sat back down on the only chair in the room.

He could understand why his invisibility cloak was untouched by tracking spells, it was a very powerful magical artifact, any spells one tried to attach to it would just wick off of it like water off glass. The socks… well he'd hardly taken these ones off his feet and the second he had Dobby had them whisked away to be cleaned and returned them directly to him, which gave all of his apparent stalkers no chance to tag his favorite pair.

However… what was in the parcel? Harry unwrapped the small package and out fell a small, rectangular mirror, reaching a hand into his pocket he pulled out the mirror he had picked up off the floor earlier and held them side by side, they were identical. Both of them looked old and dirty, holding them it up to his face he saw nothing but his own reflection looking back at him. Turning the mirror he had found in his trunk over his heart gave a jolt. There on the reverse side was a scribbled note from Sirius.

_This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions._

"Oh god." Harry gasped painfully, hunching over painfully as the world started to spin around him as the implications hit him.

"Do..bby…" He choked out around his tightening throat. "C…calm…ing drau…ght…"

Dobby was gone and back seemingly within an instant and the neck of a bottle was at his lips, forcing him to drink down the potion that had an artificial wave of calm wash over him like a blessing. "Thank you Dobby." He said, as he straightened up out of the slouch he'd dropped into and looked down at the mirrors he'd been curled around, staring at his own face reflected back by them as the edge of hysteria he'd been fighting back all day seemingly vanished. He knew that it would come back as soon as the potion began to fade but while he was like this he might as well try to cobble a disguise together. It would be one less thing to worry about.

"D… Dobby is being needing no thanks Harry Potter Sir." The house elf stuttered as he stoppered the potions bottle he'd liberated from the hospital wing, Harry eyed the nearly full bottle with a sense of detached relief, well, that wasn't going to go to waste…

"Thank you anyway." He replied, getting up from the chair again and over to the Gringotts chest, opening it and pausing only to cast another revealing charm before shoving each mirror into a sock each and wrapping them in his invisibility cloak. Stalking over to the piles of clothing Dobby had liberated from god knew where Harry cast another series of revealing charms and pulled out a pair of trousers, a dark shirt, a pair of socks and a dark blue cloak edged in silver from the pile and tucked them under his arm, thankful that Dobby had actually cleaned the clothes before he'd brought them to him. He was used to hand-me-downs and at least these were heads and away better quality than anything he'd ever gotten from the Dursleys.

Grabbing the handle of the one of Lockheart's trunks, the one with all the potions and 'makeup' in it Harry wheeled it out of the room and into the closest bathroom, setting the clothes on the small vanity and boosting the trunk up onto the toilet. Opening it he rummaged through the various potions and smiled grimly at the neatly labelled bottles, potions for changing everything from his hair colour, his eye colour and even his skin tone. Even a glittery powder case that looked similar to the one his aunt kept in her purse, several unopened packages of the same case sitting next to it as well as he discovered when he ripped open the corner of one packet. Lockheart must have gone through these like Hogwarts Students went through Sugar Quills…

"Hedwig!" he called out into the hallway, holding the door open for her as she glided into the bathroom at his call to settle elegantly on the towel rack. "Want to help me pick out a disguise?" he asked and almost grinned when she abandoned her perch on the towel rack to perch on the edge of the trunk he had open on the toilet.

He sorted through the various potions in the trunk and lined up the color-change potions, organizing them into groups. The ones on the left changed the colour of his hair, the ones on the right would change his eye colour, the potions that would lengthen or tame his hair were set along the wall where the mirror was set above the sink with the skin-tone potions and the vial of dispeller potion would sit next to him at his elbow.

Quickly sorting through the hair colors on the labelled bottles Harry tossed the more outlandish ones into the bathtub with the portraits he'd left there earlier in the night, black joined pink, bubble-gum blue, smoky black, lilac, cherry red and a shade of electric green that matched his eyes. In the end he was left with several shades of brown and blonde.

Hedwig left her perch on the trunk for a bit to explore the contents of the bathtub while he downed the first shade of brown, he stared at his reflection for a minute before deciding that it was a little too close to his own black and tossed it into sink rather than upset Hedwig's perch on a bit of portrait frame.

Draining the canceller potion he frowned at the bottle and back at his reflection, scowling at his still brown hair. Well if Lockheart had so many of the powders in his trunk surely he'd have more of the canceller potion? Rummaging through the trunk Harry had to shift through several layers of journals and open a few more packages before he found a small vial of dispeller, this one ostentatiously stored in a small crystal decanter. Capped with gold and held securely with silver wire, the wax sealing the bottle was a royal red that glittered gold when held up to the light and labelled in gold lettering.

Lockheat, Harry decided, had been a vain idiot. The potion's vial he was currently holding had to be stupidly expensive, to be so extensively decorated. Exactly how many cosmetic potions had the man been using that he needed a canceller this powerful to counteract the changes?

Had he waited a few more minutes before opening the bottle in his hands for the potion he'd just drunk to work Harry's hair would have changed back to black, and had he looked down at the tag hanging from the tag of the parcel Harry would have noticed the note from Lockhearts supplier, thanking him for his patronage by gifting him with a 'sampler' of their newest Dispeller. "a new and improved' formula guaranteed to reverse any and all spells, transfigurations!'

In the days and years to come, he'd thank his lucky stars he didn't check the mirror again or look any closer at the packaging the potion had come in and that he'd drunk the whole thing down without diluting it with a single drop of water. It was the only thing that could have undone the years of spells, glamour's and transfigurations Dumbledore had placed on him all those years ago.

As it was, Harry felt like he'd made a mistake the second he'd finished knocking back the small amount of potion in the vial. His vision fractured sharply and heart began to pound loudly in his ears, drumming in a staccato beat that had him sagging against the sink with a pained wheeze as his skin began to heat up and burn, his bones snap and turn to liquid and set every nerve ending he had on fire.

The calming potion he'd drunk minutes before as well as the headache potion he'd had before eating cancelled at the same time. the return of his hysteria and pain sending him sagging bonelessly to the floor as his hands scrabbled uselessly at the edge of the sink to try and slow his fall. The last thing he saw before succumbing to darkness was the oddly dark colour of Hedwig's feathers as she came to land and flap on his shoulder and Dobby's terrified and panicked face as the house elf came tearing into the room and the room darkening at the edges of his vision.

He lost consciousness before he fully hit the floor, fainting from the magical backlash of all the enchantments snapping and draining away.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry came to in fits and bursts. He faded in and out of consciousness within what felt like one breath and the next and struggled to keep himself awake as his body twisted and changed. He forced his eyes open after every blackout and struggling to gasp in air through his raw throat with every burning tidal wave that crashed through him that, unbeknownst to him, cancelled years of charms and transfigurations as it went.

His hair lengthened into a black mane that hung past his shoulders and bleached to white in seconds, some strands falling out and dropping to the floor in front of his eyes and some falling over his face to partially block his vision. Something peeled away from his face to land in front of him, some sort of cloth, leather? He felt the transformation that traveled down his arms and screamed as he watched his arms twisted under the fabric. Oblivion.

Daylight. Nerves sparking and jolting him into awareness. Dragging him back up as he felt his fingers and toes twisted under themselves, letting his head tilt to the side he forced one of his burning eyes open and watched as his hand seemingly shrank in on itself, his skin shriveling up like some sort of glove. Darkness.

He had no breath left in him to scream the next time he woke up, his throat clenched up as his back arched involuntarily off the bed. Dobby must have relocated him to since his last blackout. His heart hammered weakly and he could feel the sweat run down his face as tears streamed out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't even bring himself to open them anymore, it hurt just trying to blink and he was too tired to breathe in much more than a shallow pant. His whole body was a trembling wreak… Darkness again.

The next time he woke up he had no idea how much time had passed since the last time he'd blacked out, thankfully it seemed that the last of the twisting pain was gone. Whatever the potion he'd drunk had done to him the effects had either cemented or faded, he was left with a bone-deep ache and a minute trembling across his entire body, with his nerves flaring in sharp distress every time he moved. He was dressed in the robes he had intended on changing into after figuring out a disguise, the robes and the sheets he was lying on were burnt in some places and soaked in others with sweat, blood and an oily pearl-like sheen of what had to be potions-residue. Urgh, what had happened to him?

Grimacing in disgust Harry braced his hand against the mattress and slid out of bed, letting his knees fold out under him so he could get away from the mess on the bed. Wearily pressing his face against a thankfully clean area of the bed he breathed in as deeply as he could as he tried to work up the energy to lift his head up from the slouch he'd fallen into. The noise he made slipping to the floor woke up the House Elf who had been sitting in the chair by the bed and suddenly Dobby was at his side, so close his nose was almost touching his own.

"Harry Potter Sir! You is being awake! Dobby was s-so worried!" the elf sniffled, sucking in a great breath and staring at him with large green eyes that seemed to tremble even harder within his eye sockets than the rest of him combined. Feeling his eyes cross as Dobby's tennis-ball green eyes stared at him from less than an inch from his face Harry lifted a weak and trembling arm up to catch the house elf as he started to twist at his own ears and scooped him off his feet and tripped the house-elf forward into a loose hold, trapping Dobby's arms by his sides.

"How many times…" Harry started to say before trailing off "… do I have to say… stop… hurting… yourself?" he asked haltingly, frowning a little in consternation at the unfamiliar tone of his own voice. He was tired yes, but he didn't think he'd ever heard his voice sound quite like it had sounded just then. Coughing to clear his throat he frowned again when his throat cleared normally. Damn had the potion changed his voice as well?

He had a moment of vertigo as he pushed himself up away from the bed he was leaning on so that he was mostly sitting up, dizzily swaying forward before he steadied. He paused momentarily as his hair fell into his face and blinked at the crusted and sticky black strands. "What?" he asked out loud, letting go of Dobby to so he could get a better look at the long strands of hair. He could have sworn he'd seen his hair turn _white_ right before he passed out, more to the fact he thought he'd seen a good handful of it fall out of his head too. "… the… hell happened?" he asked as he brushed careful fingers through his hair, searching for bald spots he was sure would be there.

No bald spots, just hair. Lank and matted strands of hair that fell over his forehead, down past his chin, collar bone and shoulders. He looked at his hands in the light coming in from the window and stared, also pretty sure he'd seen his hands twist in on themselves and shrivel up like prunes too. Instead, under the layer of dried blood and smeared potion-residue coating his skin his hands were… smaller. Younger. Fingers more fine-boned and delicate than they'd ever been. Patting himself down Harry grimaced as his hand traveled over the crusted remains of what had to be vomit and decided a trip to the bathroom was in order, he could get a better look at himself in the mirror when he was clean.

"Dobby? Can you please get me some clothes? I'm just going to get cleaned up…" he asked as he reached up to grab at the bed-post. Dobby disappeared even before he could finish so he simply hauled himself up and stumbled the short distance to the attached bathroom, catching himself on the frame of the door before helping himself into the room.

Dobby had beaten him there. The tub was filled with steaming water, soap bubbles frothing up almost over the lip. A set of clean and folded robes were sitting on the sink and a small table was sitting next to the tub. A pile of sandwiches sitting on a plate and tall glass of pumpkin juice reminded him he hadn't eaten anything since… before he'd passed out, and he had no idea how long ago that had been. Dobby himself was twisting his hands around the fresh pillowcase he was wearing, practically hopping from foot to foot in agitation as Harry wavered before sighing, slipping out of the disgusting robe he'd been wearing before easing himself into the bathtub.

He really didn't have the strength to fight Dobby on this, especially when he realized that the potions residue that coated his skin with an oily sheen was proving rather difficult to scrub off and that his hair was lank with it too. Dobby noticed his struggling with the soap and popped away for a brief second, coming back within another few minutes with a bottle of potion that he tipped into the sponge. Harry immediately began trying to scrub himself raw with the new potion as the house elf hopped up onto the lip of the bathtub with so he could massage another potion into his hair. He didn't fight it, he really didn't have the strength to care right now, he just wanted to get clean, he wasn't capable of anything else, he was just about three points shy of numb.

Dobby drained and refilled the bath two more times before he could finally convince himself that he was clean, and by that time his newly small hands had wrinkled like prunes and his skin was pink with scrubbing. Dragging himself up and out of the water he shrugged into the fresh set of robes Dobby had come back with shivered at the feeling of the cloth against his strangely sensitive skin, rolling up the sleeve so he could see his own hands and pausing to stare at his right hand.

His scar-free hand. The hand Umbridge had spent the year making sure the words "I must not tell lies." were carved deeply into his skin. Pushing up the sleeve even further Harry felt up his arm for the mark he'd gotten years ago when his arm had been pierced by the basilisk fang when he's speared the thing with Gryffindor's sword and his fingers only met with smooth skin, he pushed back the sleeve so he could look and could see no sign of the scar that had been there previously.

Left bicep. The scar he'd gotten when Wormtail had collected blood for the ritual to revive Voldemort. Gone. The scar he'd earned from the Acromantula bite on his leg. Also gone. The various scars he'd picked up during his years playing Quidditch, the scars he'd picked up during his years before Hogwarts doing chores for the Dursleys that were too much for him. Gone.

Why?

Wiping his face on the towel Dobby handed him Harry paused again mid-rub, realizing that he'd just spent the last few minutes without his glasses, and hadn't noticed a thing until he went to wipe his face free of water. He looked down at the towel in his hands, at the individual strands in the cloth that he could see even from the distance he was holding it at and then slowly at the room he was in, he… was seeing better now without glasses than he had with them!

Movement caught the corner of his eye and he froze at the sight of someone standing to the far side of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye. Fumbling for a minute as he dropped the towel he had been using to dry his face and ducked to the ground frantically rooting through the pockets of the robes he was wearing before realizing that the wands he had picked up were most likely still wherever his pajamas were. He scrabbled for something, anything to throw at the intruder.

It was only when the sandwich he'd grabbed split apart against the mirror that he realized the 'intruder' he'd been aiming at was simply his own reflection, and had there really been an intruder perhaps the table the plate of sandwiches were sitting on would have made a better projectile? The only thing that made him feel slightly less stupid for his reaction was the fact he hadn't screamed and the fact that Dobby seemed to have disappeared somewhere while he'd been dressing. Probably to go clean up the bed he'd just left…

Pulling himself back up onto his feet with some difficulty and using the sink as leverage Harry leaned forward to get a good look at the stranger in the mirror above it and stared into widened sky blue eyes. Long hair reached past his shoulders in a wet tangle, plastered to his forehead and clung to his cheeks. Thin bladed nose slightly upturned at the end. High thin face, sharp chin, soft pouted lips and the eyes themselves were slanted, sky blue and thickly framed by long eyelashes. Overall he looked like an Asian. An Asian with blue eyes. A blue eyed Asian _girl_. If he hadn't just had a bath he'd probably be checking to see if his own gender hadn't changed along with his face. Thankfully nothing THERE had changed but… damned if he wasn't pretty enough now to pass for a girl! Hell he could probably give Cho a run for her money in the looks department, or at least he would have had she looked around eleven years old too.

"God I hope this isn't permanent…" Harry grimaced, staring at the kid in the mirror. Along with his face he'd seemingly lost a good head in height, making him look about as tall as the average FIRST year. His body seemed to match, his arms had become thinner along with his torso, hips and legs, even his feet seemed smaller! It was like he'd regressed a good five years in the time he'd spent unconscious.

He… needed a wand. If not his own one then one of the others he'd had in his pocket before he'd drunk the dispeller potion. Pausing to grab up the remaining sandwich that he hadn't managed to fling at the mirror to quiet his complaining stomach he choked it down and drained the goblet of pumpkin juice before leaving the bathroom, staring uneasily at his reflection the whole time. He'd been in the hospital wing enough times that he'd picked up a few diagnostic spells from the school nurse, hopefully one of those spells would tell him how he'd managed to lose years of height and scars during his black-out.

Coordinating his shaky limbs into taking him out of the room, and yeah he'd been right about Dobby having disappearing to clean up the bed, he scanned the room eyes lighting on the bedside table and the vanity. Ok no wands. They were probably still in the bathroom on the first floor where he'd passed out. Using the walls and the railings once he got to the stairwell to keep himself balanced he guided himself down to the first floor, stopping to rest for a bit on the stairs of the second floor landing before pushing off again, heading to the bathroom and where his wands might be, he passed by the drawing room and briefly considered going in to retrieve the bottle of calming potion sitting on the desk. He was sure he was going to need it in a minute or so but the effort wasn't really worth it right now, especially when he could ask Dobby to help him get it later.

Speak of the devil… Dobby was standing in the doorway of the bathroom he'd passed out in, hands twisted into his toga-like pillowcase and staring into the room with wide eyes. He almost jumped when he realized that he'd managed to come up behind him and the house elf seemed almost like he wanted to stop him from walking into the bathroom. The half aborted movement Dobby made to stop him freezing in mid-action before he stepped back, giving him a clear path into the room. Harry almost regretted walking in at the sight that greeted him, the grip he had on the door-frame tightened to prevent himself from blacking out again in shock.

"D…Dobby has been looking over yous side for two days, so Dobby is not be knowing what happened, Dobby is not even be leaving yous side to eat so Dobby is not be knowing! Dobby has be seeing what too much magics be doing to Hogwarts so Dobby was not taking any chances… but Dobby…" The house elf rattled off. "Dobby... All House elves know of this, sir. Dobby has only been seeing it once though. Sometimes... Sometimes when a Mistress is not being very happy with Master, sometimes they is visiting someone else. Someone else who is helping them make a little Master or Mistress. But Mistress can't tell Master that they is not helping make Little Master or Mistress. So they is using special potions and enchantments. They is... adding bits. Changing bits. Giving Little Master or Mistress an extra parent. Sometimes... In the old days... When Little Master or Mistress is having an accident in someone else's care, House-elves be seeing them take another child and using Little Master or Mistress's body to make the other child into the Little Master or Mistress properly. Even changing their magics, sir. It is very dark magic, sir."

Lying face down on the bathroom floor and wearing the pajamas he'd been wearing… was the skin of his former self and looking rather much like something that had been shed by a snake. The inside surface was coated thickly in blood and the same oily pearl-like sheen that had been on his skin before he'd taken that bath. The skin itself… looked something like a shell, dry and shriveled in places, fleshy and wet with blood in other places.

Madam Pomfrey had wasted many an hour over his numerous scars over the course of his time at Hogwarts, puzzling over them as normally wizards didn't scar unless exposed to curses. Dark curses. Cuts and burns not caused by magic would heal over without a scar, cuts and burns caused by magic usually needed a magical cream or such to boost a wizards natural healing to achieve the same effect. The school nurse had eventually decided the cause of his 'delicate skin' was a side-effect of the Killing Curse he'd taken as a baby. To think the reason why he scared ever so easily was because the skin he was wearing… wasn't really his own to begin with.

Barely able to stop himself he moved forward, nudged the area of the head with his foot and staring morbidly as the back of the head area peeled back at the slight movement to reveal the mess inside. Bleached white strands of hair falling out to join the mess on the tiles and two bright green lenses stretched over where his eyes must have been. Above that… was a thick black lightning bolt, surrounded by a multitude of what he could vaguely recognize as runes etched onto what looked like snake-skin. In fact… if he looked closer at the rest of the skin, the whole inside surface was like that, the entirety of the inside 'surface' inscribed with runes, though most were covered in blood and the potion he'd washed off himself earlier.

Dobby stepped forward anxiously, the house elf's long nose scrunched up as with a great shuddering inhale he abruptly burst into tears, his bony fingers twisting at his ears, "Yous - yous not Harry Potter sir!" he wailed, dragging in a gritty tearful breath as he pulled his tea cosy off and mopped his face with it, his next words muffled but still somehow discernible, "You is not the Great Harry Potter sir but you is still f-freeing Dobby from his Bad Masters. You is c-c-CARING about a house elf, about Dobby! About Winky! You is fighting the Dark Lord even thoughs you is not Harry Potter sir!" he bawled from behind his tea cosy, another noisy great snotty sniff filling the room. "You is... you is a greater wizard than Dobby is ever imagining Sir! You is not Harry Potter sir but you is just as good! No! You is being better because you is being good from yous heart! You is not having to be kind, or great, or brave, or gentle, you is doing it anyway bec-be-because you is the greatest, kindest, bravest, wizard Dobby knows! You is doing great things Sir! You is doing them even though you is not HAVING to! Even though you is not Harry Potter sir!"

The boy who had always known himself as Harry Potter stared down at the gutted remains of his former self and felt his whole world shatter around him… if he wasn't Harry Potter then… who was he?

The question burned at him but all of a sudden so many things just clicked into place and questions he'd always asked himself were answered and made sense. The years of feeling like a stranger in his own skin. The strange disconnect he'd always felt at hearing his own name. The odd feeling like the fame attached to his name really shouldn't be his. If he was being honest with himself even the daydreams of having his parents back with him had felt hollow. Hell, the dreams of a stranger coming to rescue him from his situation felt stronger than the dreams he'd had of living a happy life with the Potters.

It was strange… but the revelation that he wasn't really the Boy Who Lived actually lifted a weight off his shoulders. As much as he wanted to run screaming bloody murder over to the fireplace so he could find Dumbledore's corpse and shake it down for answers a vicious sense of relief burned through him. He… wasn't Harry James Potter. He wasn't Harry Potter and he had his whole life to figure out who he was. Suddenly there was no need to panic, no urge to rush around like an idiot trying to figure out ways to get out of the country. The only person who would connect who he was right now with Harry Potter… was probably just Dumbledore. Who was going to connect him with Dumbledore's murder? No one. He was a stranger to even himself. If Dobby was right he wasn't even a half blood, he was most probably a muggleborn.

He'd just been given a free ticket out of hell. A hell Dumbledore had made… but he was only going to be able to use that ticket if he smart about this. If he was careful. If he could get away from Grimmauld Place without being spotted by any of the Order Members who were most probably still lurking outside. If he could get rid of the all evidence linking him with Harry Potter. The piece of shriveled and warped skin in front of him and… the belongings Dobby had brought to him. The things so saturated in his magic that Dobby had been able to identify them as his even after years had gone by.

It was time he dusted off his Slytherin side, he was going to need it if he was going to be able to use this unique opportunity.

Reaching down to the dead skin on the floor he pulled the back of the pajama top it was still wearing and gingerly picked through the contents of the pocket to fish out the wands inside. Hastily dropping the shirt when he was done he shoved them into a pocket of his robes and moved over to the bathtub still half-full of broken portraits and potions bottles. He vanished the contents before levitating the half withered, half fleshy and still bloody remnants of his former self into it. Skin, bleached hair, pyjamas, glasses and all.

A quick trip into the drawing room had him picking up the crate of junk he'd dropped all of his former belongings in. He dumped the lot into the bathtub, the potions he'd lined up on the sink before he'd blacked out were scooped up and tossed them into Gringotts trunk. Perfume from Lockheats trunk was sprayed into every room to mask his scent and another basin of water was dumped into the fire pit in the kitchen floo to made doubly sure no one was going to get in the house that way. He changed out of the robe he'd worn out of the bathroom into the least eye-catching set of clothes out of the pile in the drawing room and shrugged into them, resizing them as he went. He dug through Lockheats trunk, grabbed anything even remotely useful and tossed them into his Gringotts trunk, the small pouch of galleons out of Lockheart's trunk was shoved into a pocket along with the wands he'd collected. One more trip to the Drawing room and a few spells later and he had the one trunk he'd yet to dig through and the silver box that had been sitting on it shrunk down and in his pocket along with his Gringotts trunk.

Stomping his feet into a pair of boots that must have belonged to his former fop of a teacher he took a moment to twist his ridiculously long hair into a long rope and tuck it into his collar. He really didn't have the time for a hair-cut right now and the risk he might leave behind some of the cuttings behind was just too high. He'd cut his hair later, he'd have time enough for it when he'd made a clear escape from his life as Harry Potter. If he really had been unconscious for two days he really didn't have the time to stick around in the house for much longer.

One last trip to the bathroom.

Dobby had cleaned up the blood, hair and potion off the floor and had semi-organized the mess in the bathtub by the time he returned. The house elf looked up as he came into the room and his ears drooped in anxiety, his hands reaching up to twist at an ear before twitching away to twist at the pillowcase he was wearing instead.

"Dobby…what would you think of me if I told you that I wanted to leave the wizarding world? If I just wanted to leave everything behind? Let someone deal with all this? Let everyone else clean up their own mistakes?" he asked uncertainly, wondering what Dobby would make of his hero wanting to run away.

Dobby burst into tears.

"This is all Dobby has been wanting for years!" the house elf wailed, startling the boy who had been Harry into leaning back at the explosion of tearful enthusiasm. "Dobby has been hoping and wishing and praying for yous safety! Dobby has even be trying to give you hints and clues! Dobby… Dobby is HAPPY yous is wanting to leave! Dobby is knowing Hogwarts is too dangerous and Dobby was always looking for the chance…" the house elf trailed off and seemingly couldn't continue talking, pulling his already sodden tea-cosy off his head and muffling his face into it, sobbing almost incoherently.

Hints and clues? Chance… oh. The reason why Dobby had gone so completely overboard with bringing him the things he'd 'Forgotten' from Hogwarts? That was quite the heavy-handed hint. Also very much like Dobby, hadn't he mentioned speaking with Sir Cadogan? Exactly how long had Dobby been planning on dropping this particular hint on him? Scooping Dobby up into his arms he ignored the shocked yelp the house elf made and buried his face into his bony shoulder. "You really have been looking out for me this whole time haven't you?" He asked shakily, feeling dangerously close to tears himself. "I'm sorry, I haven't really been a very good friend to you have I?"

"Yous is not apologizing!" Dobby croaked out around a strangled yelp, almost looking like he actually wanted to try hitting him. "Yous was busy! Fighting! Always fighting! Dobby is being proud to be looking after yous! Yous is be saving Dobby so Dobby is be wanting to be saving you! This is being the least Dobby could do!"

A smile managed to creep onto his lips at that but it faded as he raised his head to eye the mess in the bathtub. "Dobby… I don't think I'm ever going to come back into the wizarding world after this. If there was one thing right about that prophesy, it's that all I've been doing so far is surviving. For as long as I can remember that's all I've known and… I'm done with the way I've been until now. With who I've been. I want to know what it's like to live. I'm not sure we can pull this off… but Dobby, I have an idea."

He let Dobby pull himself out of his arms and knelt down to eye level with the house elf, making sure he had the his full attention before speaking. "When I leave I want you to go straight to the ministry and say Harry Potter was angry and sad, he broke lots of things and yelled. Harry Potter drank a potion and got very sick. Even though you watched over him for days Harry Potter didn't wake up. Harry Potter is dead and his body… caught on fire." He finished, punctuating that last statement with a spell shot straight into the tub, smoke instantly started eating away at the roll of parchment and fire licked to life across a robe.

Dobby's green eyes gleamed, his face breaking into a wild grin. "Dobby can be doing this! Dobby wills be acting like Winky! Dobby will be acting worse than Winky! Dobby will tell everyone!"

"Good." He replied as he got back to his feet, he turned his back on the make-shift pyre he'd just lit and stalked out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Dumbledore had created The Boy Who Lived… it was high time someone pulled away the safety blanket the title brought to wizarding world and the death of Harry Potter might just be the kick in the ass they needed to DO something about the Dark Lord they had helped create. The wizards and witches of Britain were going to have to put on their big boy pants now that Harry potter and Dumbledore weren't around to 'save' them. Sink or Swim. Either way it wasn't his problem anymore, hadn't been his problem to begin with. He had no more sympathy left for them, all he felt now was numbness. Sirius had been his last lifeline… one that ultimately had been nothing but yet another one of Dumbledore's fabrications.

Reaching the front door of Grimmauld Place he pulled himself up on tip-toe to reach the peep-hole that had been perfectly at eye-level before he'd lost the height that came with being Harry Potter and grumbled. Dobby solved the problem by popping away and returning with a chair but losing almost a whole head's worth of height was something he didn't need divination to know was going to get very irritating very fast. The view of the street when he looked out was encouraging though, he didn't know if it was luck or divine intervention but he saw no sign of Moody, the one person in the order who'd be able to spot him through the door and give away his escape before it happened. He easily picked out the order members as they loitered around the street and the front door, he carefully checking out of various windows around the house and bit back a curse. The house was surrounded by Order Members, who SHOULD have been more worried about Voldemort but were instead staking out a nearly empty house. A house one of their OWN was hiding out in no less.

It really slammed home exactly how badly the wizarding world needed to get their heads out of their asses, though to be fair maybe they had finally figured out who'd killed Dumbledore and were staking out the house to bring him into custody. It had been two days after all… It didn't matter. The house was surrounded and being watched, he'd blocked the floo himself, he wasn't going to be able to pry open a window and fly off either, even if his broom wasn't currently being burned it had been covered in too many tracers. Trying to escape on foot under the invisibility cloak was just too risky, one slip and any part of him would become visible and he doubted that the order would miss a disembodied limb appearing out of nowhere… how was he supposed to get out?

"Wish I knew how to make a Portkey." He muttered to himself.

"Portkey?" Dobby asked, brightening up from where he'd been following him nervously around the house, ears perking up in interest. "Yous is be needing to be leaving the house without being seen? Dobby can do that! Dobby is be helping you!" Dobby exclaimed, reaching forward with no further warning and tugging him forward and into what felt like a vortex the size of a penny.

Feeling very much like he'd just been sucked through a rather fat straw he weaved dizzily on the spot, staggering sideways to lean against a nearby wall to settle his roiling stomach. Dobby popped away a second later and returned within the next, holding a rather ruffled and strangely dark-feathered Hedwig in his arms. She screeched and flapped indignantly, launching herself up out of the house-elf's arms and up into the air, hovering for a moment before flapping down to him and landing awkwardly on his outstretched arm with her wings still half extended and staring at him with her sharp amber eyes.

"Hi Hedwig… I guess I do look rather different than what you were expecting… do you recognize me?" he asked tentatively, reaching out a shaking hand to hesitantly stroke her feathers into calming down, smoothing her wings into folding and only relaxing when she did. He brought his arm in to cuddle her up against his chest when she finally started leaning into his touch and almost started to cry when she nibbled comfortingly on his fingertips. "Did you get into the colour change potions?" he asked as he angled his arm away from him again, tilting it so she'd climb up onto his wrist for a better look. Her pristine white feathers had darkened to a smoky charcoal, the black speckles on her wings blending in with the colour and basically rendering her neigh unrecognizable.

"You're such a smart girl!" he crooned as he brought her to his chest again. She knew he'd been trying to disguise himself and went and disguised herself, you couldn't find a smarter owl anywhere! "Good girl Hed… uh, I guess we're going to have to keep a lid on the name for now…" He interrupted himself before he could say her name out loud again. Looking around to see if anyone had heard him he gave a sigh of relief as he realized that Dobby had apparated him into an alleyway with no one around to witness him appearing so suddenly or hear him address his owl.

"Dobby where are we?" he asked the house elf, boosting Hedwig up onto his shoulder and taking a few steps forward towards the road. He didn't step out of the alleyway just yet, but peered around the building to try and get a bearing on where he was instead.

"We is just be being outside The Leaky Cauldron, sir." Dobby replied, hopping up and down in excitement, "Dobby is bringing Sir to the Leaky Cauldron before Dobby is going to the ministry! Dobby will do his best! Dobby will make sure everyone knows Harry Potter is dead!"

That… scooping Dobby up into a rough hug, he wrapped his arms around the shocked house elf and buried his face into the house elf's shoulder for the last time. "Be careful." He warned, speaking directly into one of Dobby's reddened ears, "Don't trust anyone, especially anyone too close to Dumbledore. Be careful and take care of yourself. This might be the last time we see each other so… Thank you, really. More than anyone else I've ever met, you have to have the kindest soul out of all of them! Keep yourself as safe as you can and I'll… try to do the same. Thank you again for everything and… good bye." He lowered Dobby back onto his feet and nodded down at the house elf who's pale skin had pinked up to a fierce red flush.

The house elf nodded back, snatched his tea-cosy off his head and looked dangerously close to bursting into tears again as he swept into a bow so low his nose was a hairs breath to touching the pavement. "Dobby has been honored to be having knowing you, sir… Goodbye!" he replied and disapparated away without straightening up.

Hedwig leaned into his cheek, snuggling closer and nibbled comfortingly at one of his ears. "Thanks Hed… guess I'll have to think of a new name for you, at least something I can call you in public…" he murmured, threading fingers through her soft feathers. Hed… Heddy? No that sounded awful. Heddy… Hetty? Close but that still sounded a little off… Hettie? "What do you think of Hettie?" he asked the owl sitting on his shoulder, quirking an eyebrow at her questioningly. Hedwig seemed to consider it before bobbing her head in acceptance, fluffing up and preening a little at the name.

"Bite me if I try and call you by your real name in public will you?" he asked as he gave her one last pet, "That way if I slip up I can tell everyone you hate being called 'Heddy' in public." He finished, grinning slightly when she pecked lightly at his ear. Yeah he was pretty sure she wouldn't like that name.

Stepping quickly out of the alleyway he scanned the street and spotted the Leaky Cauldron almost immediately about three shops away, sprinting the distance he pushed open the doors of the pub and slipped in. A few people looked up at him as he entered but lost interest almost as the door fell shut behind him, going back to their conversations or food, completely uninterested in him. No lingering stares. No crowding. No one getting up out of their seats at the sight of him just so they could rush over and speak to him. It was such a marked difference to how he'd lived as Harry Potter that he floundered a bit, hesitating inside the doorway for a bit before moving over to the bar. This was… unbelievable.

"Excuse me…" He asked the bar tender, "I'd like a room for tonight?"

"Name?" Tom grunted, reaching behind him to grab a key off the hook, not noticing when the boy he was talking to froze for a long minute.

"Bla…air." He replied, cursing himself for forgetting to come up with a something as simple as a name for himself before walking into the pub and only just stopping himself from using the name Black. As it was he managed to change the name mid-way out of his mouth. "Blair… …Riley. Blair Riley." He finished, glad he'd managed to come up with something even halfway believable.

"Room nine." Tom grunted, not questioning it as he slid a the key across the counter. "Dinner is at eight, payment on checkout."

"Um, thanks." He replied, scooping the key off the bar top and slinking up to the stairs that would lead him up to the right room. He quickly let himself inside and emptied his pockets of the trunks and shrunken silver case, leaving them on the floor beside the bed. He had no idea when the spells keeping them small and feather-light were going to wear off so it was better to keep them stored somewhere where they weren't going to be in danger of burying him unaware. Hedwig settled on a perch by the window and tucked her head under her wing, settling down for the nap she was most undoubtedly disturbed out of earlier, he set out some water and a few owl treats and started fishing through his pockets.

He hesitated on picking up a wand to use, finally picking up Qurriels wand of the three as the one least likely to be recognized by the general public and slid it into a pocket, tucking the others away under a pillow before leaving the room. Pausing only to flip the sign that appeared on the door handle over so it said "Do Not Disturb." he guided himself out of the pub and into to the back courtyard and the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Long past the awe he'd once held for the magical market-place he walked purposely over to the shop he'd once bought his school trunk from and grabbed one of the catalogues that he'd ignored on his previous trip to the shop, flipped right to the back and started browsing through the more expensive models.

"Can I help you with anything?" an amused male voice asked, making him turn to the doorway from where he'd apparently walked right past the dark haired shop-keeper and straight to the catalogs.

"I… uh, need a trunk… or something. Just with lots of space…" he mumbled nervously, twitching at the idea of not having noticed the man on the way in. "I… we're moving house and… I have a lot of… stuff…" he trailed off, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Too much to fit into one of these?" the man asked, laugh lines around his grey eyes crinkling in good humor as he tapped at one of the student trunks on display nearby with his foot. He nodded, he didn't need another one of those, he had about three sitting in the Gringotts trunk up in his room.

"How's one of these then?" The man asked, gesturing to a trunk further into the shop and opening the lid, he peered forward and took several large steps backward, uncomfortably reminded of the trunk compartment that had once held Moody captive for most of a year.

"Relax kid, It's not like I'm going to push you in!" The shopkeeper grinned. "It would be bad for business!"

"Tell that to Mad Eye Moody." He muttered before he could stop himself and slapped a hand over his mouth, wincing as he watch the smile on the man's face dim at that.

"Now THAT was bad for business." The man sighed, mournfully closing the trunk he'd just opened. "Lucky someone found him in time, you don't want to know how many wizards aren't that lucky…"

"… what?"

"Some of these stupid sod's over fill their trunks right? Then when they go to try and get their stuff they fall in and the lid closes behind them neat as you please. Makes for some grisly discoveries when family members go to take a look at what they inherited…"

Suddenly he didn't want to buy a new trunk as much anymore.

"Don't you have any safety features built into the trunks?" he asked "Like have the lid charmed not to close if someone falls in? Or have it spit someone out if it happens?"

"Why… didn't I think of that?" The wizard whispered to himself, staring at him for a long moment before boggling visibly, as if the idea he'd just proposed was something so far out of the left field that he'd never thought of it before. "This might bring even bring down the number of trunk related deaths!" The man exclaimed as he rushed for the counter of the shop, snatching up a roll of parchment, hastily ripping off a piece and scribbling away frantically with a quill he dipped frequently into the ink pot at his elbow.

Number of trunk related WHAT?

There was just so many things wrong with that statement that he didn't even know what part of it he should be more appalled with. "Wizards." He muttered to himself as he palmed his face. "Look... Just... research muggles a little. Especially Health and Safety codes. They may not always be applicable to wizards, but it'll give you an idea of what kind of stuff should be dealt with."

"That's a pretty good idea kid! What's your name?" The man asked, pausing in his mad scribbles and looking up at him expectantly.

Damn it, what was the name he'd just used for the Leaky Cauldron? Bla.. oh, right.

"Blair Riley…" He replied, giving the store another hesitant look over. "Do you have any bags?" he asked, now pretty much sure he didn't want any of the trunks. At least with a bag he wasn't going to worry about falling in.

"Bottomless?" the man assumed, finishing his scribbling and putting away his quill for the moment. "We have quite a few, you said you were moving house so how does something that shrinks your belongings as you put it in sound?" he asked, moving past a row of trunks to a rack of bags he hadn't noticed until the man reached out to grab a few.

Sighing in relief he moved forward to look at the bags the man placed on the counter and pulled one towards him, giving it a once-over before opening it. It looked like an old fashioned physicians bag, made of dark leather and silver, complete with domed top, when he snapped open the mouth he took one look inside and pushed it away. It might have looked like a bag on the outside but it was basically a bag-shaped trunk, almost identical to the trunk the man had shown him a minute ago.

The second bag was the same, the only difference was that it had two compartments. It was when he reached for the third bag that he decided he might have found the right one, it had multiple pockets. That might even make it easier for him to organize the sheer amount of stuff he had packed away back at his room in the Leaky! It also didn't look visibly like the other two 'bags' the man had shown him. This was more of a satchel, still made of leather but it was held closed via a buckle, a long strap extending from the sides meant that it would be easy to carry around and, according to the parchment stuck to the outer flap, it was designed to shrink to resemble leather bracelet at the tap of a wand.

"How do I get the big stuff in here?" he asked, "I have furniture and things…"

"The openings are charmed to stretch." The man answered, reaching forward to demonstrate. "Also you don't have to worry about losing anything you chuck into the bag, just think of the item you want when you're putting your hand in and it's the first thing within reach."

"How much?"

Leaving the shop with the pouch of Galleons he'd liberated from Lockheart's trunk a good deal lighter he slipped the strap of the bag over his arm and tapped it three times with his wand, turning his wrist to get a full view of the thick leather band now sitting snugly against his skin. You could only tell it was a bag when you looked at it closely, the satchel's flap held closed with what looked like a decorative buckle. He'd organize everything into it after he visited the book shop, there had to be some way of finding out who he was via potion or something…

He was side-tracked from his walk to Florish and Blotts when a large, purple, three-story building caught his attention. There was a large automaton of a red haired man built into the display of the shop, it's arm moving a red-banded top hat off its head to showcase the rabbit that appeared and disappeared with every pass.

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?

Unable to really stop himself he felt his feet guide him to the store and his hand reach out to push the door open. A bell jingled merrily as he entered and he had to stop and stare for a minute at the sight that greeted him. Fireworks whizzed through the air above his head at high speed, bouncing off everything in their way and showering the whole store in stray sparks. Flying frizz bees zipped above heads and the inside was a mish-mash patchwork of dizzying staircases and angular shelves full to bursting with products of all shapes and sizes. Only some of these were products that he recognized from the lot the twins had tested on the populace of Hogwarts.

Was all this what the twins had done with the Tri-Wizard galleons?

This place would probably fill to bursting as soon as Hogwarts let out for the year and would probably remain that way until it started up again. There was no way any kid would be able to walk past without coming inside! He felt a smile threaten at the corner of his mouth as he took in the chaos and snapped a hand out in front of him to catch the whizzing cream-colored ball that had been about to fly past his face. His hand automatically loosened at the feel of warm fur but before he could look down at what he'd caught another two whizzed past his head. A pink one and another that was bright yellow. He couldn't resist plucking them out of the air and cupped them in his hands to get a better look at what he'd caught without risking them escaping.

Three pairs of baby blue eyes looked curiously up at him from the cradle of his palms! The balls of fluff he'd caught were small animals about the same size as a snitch, which was probably what had prompted him to catch them as they tried to bounce past him… The little balls of fluff didn't try to escape when he cautiously ran a finger over what he assumed was their heads. They even leaned into his touch and surprised him by starting to purr like kittens, long pink tongues reaching out of the extremely fluffy fur to lick at his fingers.

"What are you guys?" he asked the fluffy, kitten-like animals in his hands. They had to be some kind of magical creature, just not one he'd ever heard of before. Probably pretty harmless if they were allowed roam around the shop freely like this.

"Better question is…" a familiar laughing voice asked as an arm slipped over his right shoulder.

"… What are you?" another familiar voice finished as yet another arm slipped over his left shoulder, pinning him in between the two who were speaking.

"A Potentially Prodigal Seeker?" Fred asked, leaning in to get a good look at him.

"A Terrific Tamer to be?" George suggested, mirroring his twin.

"Or just All Around Awesome?" They finished together laughingly.

He stiffened, feeling like he'd been turned to stone. Why had he allowed himself to walk into the shop? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Moving as if to drop the balls of fluff he went to step out of the hold the twins had on him so he could slip away before they could recognized him, either through his personality or actions and blinked when two hands reached out to grab at his wrists to stop him from putting the fluff-balls down. Fred's right hand and George's left.

"Please don't drop them…" Fred laughed lightly as he released his hand. "We've been trying to catch these little guys all morning!"

"They're right little escape artists they are!" George continued, "Animals bred true to our very hearts, so while we've got you keeping them calm…"

"…we'd best get them back into the back room and the holding cage! Now don't let go and keep a good hold on them." Fred warned as he looked up over his head to catch his twin's eye.

A wild grin stretching across their faces was the only warning he got before the twins scooped him bodily off his feet and rushed him further into the shop. He was carried past a purple curtain and a bright orange door that flung itself open to let them into a back room. The little fluff-balls didn't seem to mind the trip, seemingly _loving_ it if the chirring squeaks they made where any indication, their purring doubling when he carefully cupped his hands around them so they wouldn't fall out mid-way to wherever they were going, which turned out to be a workshop. Something that looked like a cross between what he'd once imagined Santa's workshop would look like and a cutout of Willy Wonka's Chocolate factory. The area was fitted with shelves and cabinets reaching up to the ceiling that had to span the three whole floors of the building, work benches hugged the walls closer to the floor with ladders floating just above head height and the whole place was practically littered with colorful odds and ends.

He was set on a workbench next to an enormous cage filled with more fluff-balls similar to the ones he was holding, some in even brighter colours such as purple and blue with others in gold. The ones he was holding in his hands had quietened their chirring and squeaks by now and were simply content to purr away in his hands, eyes lidding in sleepy pleasure as he stroked an absent thumb over them.

"Pygmy Puffs." Fred answered his earlier question about what the animals were, casting a spell on the cage before opening it. The reason becoming clear when several of the Pygmy Puffs tried to take advantage of the open door to try and make their escape and bounced off the invisible barrier and back into their fellows. "They're like Puffskeins only smaller, eat the same sort of things too." he finished, talking over the indignant squeaks.

"We bred them." George said as he gently scooped up the trio of purring Pygmy Puffs from his cupped hands and returned them to the cage. They were immediately surrounded by their fellows and a ripple effect seemed to occur. Other little puffballs settled down next to them to begin purring too, forming a fluffy multi-coloured carpet across the floor of the cage. Reaching further in George scooped up a large purple one sitting near the edge of the group and deposited it in his lap. "This one here is our queen Violet, she's the mother of all the little ones here."

Hesitantly reaching a hand out to the purple furred, and eyed, Pygmy Puff he gave the twins a nervous glance before he touched the fluffy thing. It seemed as if the twins had no real clue who they were talking to. Relaxing minutely as he pet a hand over Violet's head he let his fingers sink into the soft fur and let a small grin slip onto his face as she immediately started purring like her kittens had, pushing into his touch demandingly and closing her eyes the same way they had. It was easy to see where they'd inherited their sweet nature from…

The twins shared a glance over his head and split up. Fred darted over to a filing cabinet and pulling out a few sheets of parchment and a couple of quills out of it while George sketched twin stools out of the air and had a tray of tea cups and saucers float over to them with a teapot jumping to life from the corner of the room to join them. A tea cup was filled and pushed into his hands and Violet was whisked away back into the cage with her kittens with a sleepy chirr of protest. George passed his brother a cup of tea while Fred handed him a bit of the parchment he'd gathered and one of the quill's he'd picked up, both of them taking their seat at exactly the same time, expectant grins on their faces.

"Good with animals~!" Fred sang as he wrote on the piece of parchment he was holding.

"Fast reflexes~!" George added, leaning over his brothers shoulder and adding to his piece of parchment. His own ignored for the moment. "Do you like sweets?" he asked when Fred slapped him away, going back to his own parchment with a grin.

"Uh… yes, but um what? Excuse me but I…"

"Polite~!" Fred exclaimed, sitting forward eagerly, making him lean back a little in surprise.

"Well presented and easy on the eyes~!" George cooed, pinching at one of his cheeks with a swift hand that retreated before he could even think of swatting it away. "Customers will love him!" The twins tossed their parchment and quills over shoulders at the same time and reached forward in union, taking the untouched cup of tea away from him and shaking his hands.

"My name is Fred!" George introduced himself.

"… and my name is George!" Fred continued, winking at him slyly.

"To whom do we have the pleasure of meeting?" they asked together, slapping a hand each on his shoulders and leaning forward in anticipation of the answer.

Whatever they were expecting it wasn't the full body flinch or the shaking that started to take over the young boy who'd stumbled so awkwardly into their store.

"I don't know. I don't know anything, I don't… know my own name."


	4. Chapter 4

He wished he could take back the words the second they'd left his mouth.

Jolting out of the false sense of security he'd fallen into walking into the twin's shop, the boy who'd been Harry Potter slapped a hand over his mouth and felt his heart begin to race. Why had he SAID that? Walking into the shop had been enough of a bad decision as it was, why had he had to go and let that slip? He could have just given the twins the name he'd made up earlier! Stupid! What was he going to do next? Holler for the whole of the wizarding world that he'd been Harry Potter just days previously? Best see if he could somehow brush off what he'd just said and make as quick of a getaway as he could.

"Uh I… um… I mean of course I know who I am! I'm…" he trailed off, mind scrabbling frantically for the name he'd made up at the Leaky Cauldron and coming up a horrifyingly blank. "… going to be late for…" for what? Doctor? No that would just make them worried? Dentist? "… my dentist appointment!" he exclaimed, hopping off the bench the twins had perched on and backing away towards the door, stumbling a bit when his flailing hand hit the cage the Pygmy Puffs were in.

Violet started bouncing up and down in the cage, screeching loudly and waking up her kittens who took their cue from their mother and began to copy her. The cage rocked and bounced across the workbench, making it clear just how the miniature Puffskeins had made their first escape. The twins briefly turned their attention on the cage to catch it and start casting spells to secure both the cage to the workbench and keep the door closed. Taking the opportunity presented he turned and fled, or at least he tried to.

In what was just the latest in a string of spectacularly bad luck and supremely awful timing the shrinking charm on his clothes and boots chose that moment to end, leaving him suddenly swamped in oversized clothing and tripping over boots now several sizes too large for his feet. He stepped into the folds of the robe and fell forward into a glorious tangle, felt one of his boots fly off his feet and heard it thump to the floor near his elbow a moment later. Feeling a furious red flush creep up his neck and over his face to heat up his ears he fought his way out of the fabric trapping his arms and sat himself up. Waiting for the laughter that was sure to follow such a spectacular face-plant, he pushed the hair that had fallen across his face away as well as he could with his hands lost in the now voluminous sleeves and cringed as he looked over his shoulder.

Only the twins weren't laughing.

Instead their faces were set in uncharacteristically serious looks. Stepping forward to get him back up to his feet, and embarrassingly enough set him back down on the work bench he'd just tried to vacate, they helped him get untangled and resized his clothes for him as they went. Fred tossed his stray boot over to George as he took a quick sprint for the door and left him alone with George for a few minutes, who spelled the boot back onto his foot and the right size.

"Since you got these little guys worked up can you calm them down for us again? Good, thanks!" George asked as he opened the cage of Pygmy Puffs and scooped up a handful of the Pygmy Puff kittens, deposited them in his lap without waiting for his reply in what was clearly a diversionary tactic. One that worked far too well as he had to hastily cup his hands around them from keep them from bouncing off into the workshop at large. Curling his fingers into the fur of a little purple one he herded it away from where it looked like it was going to bounce off his knee and back with the other three that had been dumped into his lap. A little gold one was already snuggling up to his other hand and the other two cream colored ones settled down when he got his hands around them.

"Ok." Fred announced as he rushed back in the room and waving his wand at the door as it closed behind him. A bright light flashing out of his wand to travel past him to every window, tinting the light coming into the room a light blue and the sounds coming in from the street dimmed down to nothing. Some kind of privacy ward? "The clerks have their orders while we're in here 'inventing' and know not to bother us until we come out, this room has more privacy charms and wards than the minister's office so it's safe to talk here. Spill."

"S…spill? Spill what? There's nothing to spill. I can't spill anything. I should go. I mean I'm expected somewhere I have that dentist... appointment..." he trailed off when George clapped his hands sharply in front of his face, cutting off his rambling and stuttered excuse.

"You… are a TERRIBLE liar. You should work on that. You never know when a good lie is going to get you out of a sticky situation. As would be exemplified here were we not determined to HELP you." George soothed, unclasping his hands to pinch at one of his cheeks again.

"Help me?" he asked faintly, absently swatting the hand away from his face. "What makes you think…"

A loud thump from where Fred was standing had him almost crawling out of his skin in surprise, the Pygmy Puff kittens would have been sent flying if George hadn't anticipated the reaction and scooped them up so he could return them to their cage. When he looked over Fred was standing with his hands still outstretched from where he'd clearly dropped a thick and heavy book to the floor, relaxing into a pose with one hand propped up on a hip and an eyebrow quirked up questioningly. "Because kids your age always jump a mile when some silly bugger drops a book?" Fred said, picking the book up from the floor with one hand and tossing it back onto a workbench.

"… and act like they got hit with a petrifying charm when confronted." George continued the observation, poking him in the shoulder, the movement not even swaying him from the spot.

"… look like they raided their parents wardrobes."

"Go so pale they look like they've gotten drained by a vampi…"

"OK!" he cut the twins off before they could start listing outlandish reasons. Biting his lip as he stared at the twins thoughtfully. If he… he didn't have to go into detail… if he could explain what had happened without really giving anything away… maybe he could save himself from discovery? He just had to… generalize. Who else could he trust? The Ministry? They'd demand to know who he was before. St Mungo's? What would they do beside confine him to a bed and inform the Ministry? Nothing. This would be skating on the edge of discovery, especially given that the twins were sensitive to secrets and would be on the lookout for any lies but…

His only other choice would be bumbling along in the dark on his own, and thinking about it now… going to Florish and Blots to look up ways to figure out his identity was a whole other level of danger all on its own. How suspicious would it look for a kid as young as he looked to be going through books above his supposed reading level? Also there was no guarantee that the books he'd need would have any of the answers to the questions he had either, or be very 'light' oriented so-to-speak. One nosy bystander and he'd have an Auror tapping on his shoulder before he could even get to the cash register.

The twins wouldn't push for more than he was willing to reveal, at least not as far as who he'd been. More than anyone he knew just how smart the twins were under their playful exterior and at the very least they could probably point him in the right direction. They were pure-bloods, they had to have heard of this kind of thing before and if there was any way for him to discover who he was magically well… On one hand, they'd be his best lead on the way to discovering who he was. On the other… they might just realize who they were talking to.

Misdirection then. They could spot lies but could they see through a twisted truth?

"I… yesterday… I was messing with some colour change potions to see what I'd look like with brown hair… I didn't like it so I drank a dispeller right?" He started haltingly, "Only it didn't seem to be working so… I took another one, only this one was a really powerful one and… I passed out. The next thing I knew… I looked like… this." He gestured to himself with a grimace. "There was this thing on the bathroom floor that… looked like my SKIN, like I'd somehow crawled out of it, left it behind and… my house elf found me. He said that… I wasn't… that I wasn't really who I was. That sometimes someone would steal a baby and make them into their child using Dark magic and I… ran. I grabbed some clothes and gold, the spare wand and just... left. Everything."

"… and you're sure that you aren't… that perhaps… your mother... lied?" Fred asked hesitantly, cringing even as he asked and sidestepping the scandalized swat his brother aimed in his direction, "Well I had to ASK!" he exclaimed as he slapped a hand back.

"Twat!"

"Berk!"

"Positive." He replied before the twins could get any further into the wrestling match they were gearing up to. "I look nothing like either of my par… them and… I look years younger than I'm suppo… than I thought I was."

The silence that greeted that statement stretched for a bit, seemingly weighing the air down with it before…

"You're not very good with Potions are you?" Startled, he looked up at Georges grinning face and blinked at the statement, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Don't you know?" Fred asked cheerfully as he slung a small cauldron onto the workbench and lighting a fire under it. "There's a potion…"

"… for everything these days~!" George finished, ducking down to grab the quill and parchment he'd dropped earlier. Tearing off a piece of parchment the red head tossed it into the lit cauldron as his brother expertly added other ingredients from a box taken from what looked like the wizarding version of a mini-fridge.

Fred paused in his Potions-making for a minute to dash over to him, prick his index finger with the tip of a sharp pin and dash away again before he could register the theft of a drop of his blood. Scowling he ignored the urge to go for his wand and he stuck the offending digit into his mouth, grumbling under his breath. He could have ASKED.

George meanwhile had clambered up one of the floating ladders and was currently rummaging through a box of odds and ends. A triumphant "Ah ha~!" giving away that he'd found what he'd been looking for sounded and he was back on the ground, heading towards him with a cylindrical leather tube. Opening one end the red head shook the tube and caught the rolled up parchment that came out and the crystal that followed. Tossing the empty tube onto a free workbench he smoothed out the roll onto a bit of space next to the Pygmy Puff's cage and untangled the length of leather cord wrapped around the crystal in his hand.

"A world map?" he asked, letting his finger drop out of his mouth, peering down at the parchment he'd rolled out. "What are you going to use that fo-YEWCH!"

George touched the crystal to the to the small wound he'd caused with the pin he'd hidden out of sight and stole some of the blood that welled up from his index finger. The older boy waved his wand a moment later and the pinprick closed over, leaving no trace behind other than the glare he was currently receiving. "I know you're trying to glare but it's not really working." George cheerfully informed him as he let the crystal dangle from its cord. "You're far too cute to pull it off."

"You could have asked." He replied tartly, examining his finger briefly. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Scrying." George said simply as he gently started swinging the crystal around in a circular motion above the map. "It's just about the most practical form of divination that exists! Forget palmistry and tarot cards, you want to find something or someone? A map and a scrying crystal is all you need!"

"… and some blood?" he asked flatly, giving him his best unimpressed look.

"You need blood to FIND blood." George clarified, brow furrowing as he stilled his hand, the crystal now moving from momentum alone. He gently moved the crystal over the map so he didn't disturb the crystal's momentum and let it swing over each continent, frowning as the crystal seemed to tug weakly over China and then more strongly over Japan. Tapping his wand on China so that the country displayed prominently on the parchment, not unlike zooming in on a computer, he tried again but got the same weak response. Trying with Japan seemed to get a stronger reaction but still nothing definite.

"… want to try?" George asked, pulling away from where he'd been leaning over the parchment and holding the crystal out for him to take. "You might get a better reaction than me, it IS your family we're looking for after all." Looking sceptically at the other boy he shrugged. Well, it wasn't like he really had anything to lose. Reaching out a hand he accepted the crystal and hopped off the workbench so he could stand over the map like George had been doing, positioning the cord over the map and started to swing it in the same manner George had.

"Now the crystal is just like your wand, only you swing it instead of using wand movements. Picture the result you want in your mind and let it guide you to what you're looking for, that's your family in this case, your real family. You ever heard of the Point Me spell?" he asked, waiting for him to nod before continuing. "Good, it's exactly like that! But instead of letting your wand spin around on its own you're letting the crystal find its way to where it need to go."

So the crystal was like a wand and scrying was like the Point Me spell? Well if that was the case then… "Point Me Family?"

George laughed sharply, slapping him on the shoulder. "I said it's LIKE the Point Me spell not…" The crystal practically jumped out of his hand, speared across the distance it was being held at and slipped out of his hands like a shot. The crystal landed squarely on the map, standing perfectly balanced on its tip and unerringly on the dot of a town labelled 'Namimori'. "… that it is exactly the same as… the Point Me spell…" George finished lamely, staring down at the crystal embedded in the map. "Guess we won't need to break out the crystal ball… Seriously how does someone like you exist?" he asked with a laugh "A potentially amazing Seeker, a natural Tamer and now you're a budding Seer?"

"… I'm sorry what was your name again?" he asked pointedly, quirking an eyebrow at the red head. "Also while we're on the topic who's shop is this?"

"Touché."

"Speaking of names we've got a live one here, heads up!" Fred called from across the bench he was working at, pulling back the spoon he'd been stirring the potion with and leaping back in preparation for the flames that shot out of the small cauldron. The piece of parchment that George had tossed in at the beginning shot up out of the flames, not unlike the way the Goblet of Fire had spat out the names of the Triwizard Champions, and sailed over to where he was standing, clearly making a beeline towards him.

Catching it out of the air he ignored the uncomfortable tightening of his skin as the still hot piece of charred parchment singed his fingertips, carefully smoothed it out and scanned it, flipping it over frantically when he realized he was looking at the back. The name on the back of the parchment wasn't in English, in fact if he had to guess it was probably written in Japanese given that his family seemed to be living in Japan. A garbled noise of frustration escaped his throat and he relinquished the piece of parchment when George went to look at it, watching hopefully as he waved a wand over it. Was he trying a translating spell?

"Noble Skylark?" George asked incredulously, staring at the words that formed in the air above the parchment, coughing into a hand to smother a snort.

"Well Noble Skylark, at least we know what your name means…" Fred snickered from where he spelled a sponge into cleaning the cauldron he'd used and a rag into wiping down the workbench. Moving over to join them he tried a spell of his own on the parchment and got the same result and tried a different spell with more of the same. At the very least they were never going to forget the meaning behind his name.

"Very funny guys, lets laugh at the guy, With. No. Name." he muttered, trying to keep the frown on his face, it shouldn't be as difficult as he was finding it though. Merlin the twins were hard to stay angry at!

"Cheer up, Oh Noble One~!" George sang as he flourished a hand at him. "Tis merely the first step in the journey of your glorious tale~!"

"… besides you're upsetting the Pygmy Puffs with your frowny face!" Fred pointed out from where he'd wandered away to lean over the cage, scooping one up and cupping it in his hands so that the little thing was at face height to him. "See? Look at his eyes! Do you really want him to start frowning too?"

Large watery blue eyes stared at him from Fred's hands and the pygmy puff that Fred was holding up seemed like it was drooping. It immediately hopped out of the red-head's hands when he held up his own and snuggled up against his right thumb. It demanded the same petting the others had gotten and chirred in delight when he gave in and curled his fingers in the soft, cream-colored fur. Taking a closer look at the ball of fluff he was holding he was pretty sure he recognized this particular one as one of the three escapee's he'd caught when he'd first walked into the shop, the first one of them he'd caught in fact!

"You're just a little attention seeker aren't you?" he asked the ball of fluff currently wriggling in delight and grinned as it's little eyes lidded in pleasure and the little thing began to purr. Sighing he transferred the Pygmy Puff to his left hand and cradled it against his chest so he could continue to pet it with his thumb as he leaned forward to where the twins had put the piece of parchment on the workbench. He traced the foreign letters with his eyes, wishing he knew how to read the language, the sheer level of frustration he felt not knowing his name but having it sit right in front of him was unbelievable. It was like chasing after a snitch that hovered just out of reach but never catching it! If only he could read it!

He flicked an eye over to the map that was still lying open where they'd left it and narrowed his eyes. "What are the chances that this is in Japanese?" He asked rhetorically. It seemed almost safe to say he was Japanese, given where the crystal had landed, or at least partially Japanese considering his eye color. He pulled the crystal off the map and away from the parchment and wiped tip of it on the sleeve of his robes before setting it aside and fished Quirrels wand out of his pocket so he could spell away the blood that smeared across the parchment where the crystal had landed.

"If I can find someone who speaks Japanese…" he started to say when the sound of a knock interrupted him. The twins looked up at the door they had hauled him through earlier and a witch wearing magenta robes popped her head into the room. She cringed slightly around the edge as if checking to see if it was safe to open the door wider before sighing in relief and taking a step out from behind the door but not fully into the room.

"Excuse me Sir's I know you told us you weren't to be disturbed but Mr Weasley Senior is in the floo and he said to tell you it's a family emergency." She said apologetically as she fidgeted from behind the door, clearly nervous of coming further into the room. Her eyes darting nervously here and there as if expecting something to jump out and bite her.

"Family emergency?" the twins echoed as the witch excused herself with a hasty nod, practically darting away from the door.

Feeling like he knew exactly what the family emergency was he tucked his wand back into his pocket and carefully picked up the precious piece of parchment that had his name burnt onto it, folding the edges of it so that the words themselves were as protected as they could be. "That sounds like my cue to leave." He said, proud that he'd managed to keep his inward panic from bleeding into his voice. Dobby must have already delivered his news. Mr Weasley worked there, word of his death must have spread around the ministry like wildfire to have reached the man's office so soon.

"Leave? But we haven't even…" George started to say.

"Given me a name and location?" He asked pointedly, holding up the piece of parchment with his name on it and waving it at the map still displaying Japan. "I have everything I need to begin searching for my family, thank you! I wouldn't have made it nearly this far without your help but I can take it from here, all I need to do is find someone who can speak Japanese and that won't be very difficult at all!" he insisted as he slipped the parchment into the same pocket as his wand. "If I have any problems I'll come right back here ok?" he lied easily, keeping his face straight and his eyes earnest. He wasn't a bad liar when it really needed to be one, he just hated lying to people he liked.

Curling his fingers around the Pygmy Puff he was still holding he tried to hand it back to one of the twins but the cream coloured ball of fluff wasn't having any of that. The little thing bit down on the edge of his sleeve when he tried to hand him over and refused to let go, growling in displeasure at every attempt to remove him from his chosen perch. "Come on, I can't keep petting you all day! Don't you want to go back to your mum?" he asked the Pygmy Puff kitten as he gave the stubborn thing a few careful tugs, trying to free his trapped sleeve.

A hand stopped his attempts at dislodging the angrily squeaking puffball and guided his hand instead into curling under it instead. "Looks like this little guy wants to 'leave the nest' so to speak." Fred laughed easily as he gave a few experimental tugs of the fabric in the little things mouth, earning himself a few kitten growls as it tugged the fabric back, it's baby blue eyes narrowing angrily at the red-head. "The pitfalls of being a natural Tamer, careful with that in the future or you'll end up with a zoo by the time you hit your teens!"

"I already AM a tee…nager…" he trailed of uncertainly and Fred's eyes tightened with sympathy, the read head's hand reaching out to ruffle his overly-long hair. "Keep him. He's not going to let you go now that he's claimed you and he'll make a mess of things here if you try to leave him behind… if you can manage to get him off you." he added mirthfully as the kitten growled around the fabric in his mouth at that, seemingly understanding exactly what they were saying. "… come back tomorrow and we'll see if we can get your name translated properly and get a fix on your age while we're at it."

Nodding in false acceptance at that he scooped the angry little Pygmy Puff up into his palm and smoothed a soothing hand over it, calming down the fur that had bristled up in indignation and settling it's growling, not even bothering with trying to tug his sleeve free of its mouth anymore. Following the twins out of their workshop and into the main area of the store he ducked behind a shelf before he could get even the smallest glimpse of Mr Weasley's face. He hunted down the checkouts, paid for his new pet, accepted the care guide the clerk gave him and darted out of the store before the twins could realize what he'd done. He knew the twins had meant for him to keep the Pygmy Puff as a gift but he didn't feel comfortable just taking the little thing with him without paying for him, especially considering that the kitten had been meant to be merchandise in the first place.

Ducking quickly into Madam Malkins some clothes that weren't going to swamp him like Lockheart's had done in the twin's workshop, he chose something that would pass as normal in the Muggle world. A pair of black slacks, white button down shirt, a pair of black boots to replace the ones he was wearing and a dark blue robe that changed into a Muggle hoodie the same colour when turned inside-out. He paid for his purchases and left wearing them, his second hand robes and boots were tossed into a bin on his way out. Pausing only long enough to convince his new Pygmy Puff kitten to let go of the robe he was still clinging to and to sit in pocket Madam Malkin had made for the little thing. He tucked his wand away into a pocket with his name, making sure not to damage the fragile paper. He didn't want to have to go back and bother the twins with making another for him.

Visiting Florish and Blotts now was easier than it would have been before he'd visited the Twin's shop, all he needed was a map of Japan. Asking a clerk for where he might find a scrying crystal he was directed to a small shop just outside Gringotts. The bored witch behind the counter advised him to 'cleanse' the crystal before using it and gave his head a light smack with a beginners guide to divination when he asked what she meant, picking it up from shelf behind her and adding it to his purchase with the crystal without even asking if he wanted it. He didn't bother protesting, he wasn't about to turn down anything that might help him in finding his family.

"Don't suppose you know how to read Japanese?" he asked hopefully as he packed away the crystal and slim book along with the map he had already stored away in the satchel he'd bought earlier, resizing it back around his wrist when he was done.

"Sorry hun, wasn't ever any great shakes with languages." The witch replied as she settled back into the chair she'd been lounging in when he first walked into the store. "You might have an easier time finding someone who reads Japanese in the Muggle world, Muggles are all over languages."

There was an idea, how long had it been since he was last in a Muggle library? It had to be way back before he'd entered the wizarding world. God, he'd been in the wizarding world for too long if he was forgetting such an obvious solution to finding his name! There was bound to be a Japanese section in the library, more to that he might find a librarian familiar enough with the language to be able to translate his name from the piece of parchment he had tucked into his pocket.

Thanking the woman as he left he ducked quickly into Gringotts to change the remainder of the Galleons he had on him into Muggle money, bouncing in place impatiently as he waited for his turn and didn't even bother counting the money he was given. He thanked the brusque goblin before bolting back out and towards the Leaky Cauldron so he could head into Muggle side of London.

Ducking through the entrance before it had even finished opening up he pulled his robe off him as he dashed through the pub, frantically pulling it inside out and pulling it back on again so that it changed into a muggle zip up hoodie. Forcing his hands through the sleeves he hopped briefly in place as he got both his arms through and ignored the muffled snickers he got from the patrons for his impatience. Dashing out into the Muggle world he sprinted up to the first taxi he could see and knocked on the window of the idling cab, waiting for the driver to roll down the window.

"Where to?" the man asked simply.

"The closest library." He said immediately as he went to open the passenger side door, but paused when the man snorted.

"Kid… there's one just down the road." He clarified as he shot the man a questioning look, pointing in the right direction. "Head towards Leicester Square, stick to the right and head up Charing Cross Road. Hard to miss. It's the big red-brick building. Charing Cross Library. If you want I can drive you down but it'll be a waste of money."

"Oh, um thanks!" he said as he released the handle of the door, giving the man a sheepish grin as he sprinted away. Following the directions the man gave him he was soon in front of the library in question, and yeah. It would have been hard to miss, what with the white banner hanging from the front entrance saying 'Library' in big blue letters…

He ignored the books at the entrance, what seemed to be a display of the newly released novels and headed straight to the counter to ask one of the staff where the Japanese language section was, making a bee-line for it the second she pointed it out. Reaching the right shelf he scanned the pitifully small section and floundered. Most of the shelf was full of what seemed to be novels written purely in Japanese, travel guides, Japanese to English dictionaries, phrase books, a couple of origami how-to books, art books of photos depicting the country and a few comic books, again written purely in Japanese.

"Oh come on!" he hissed quietly under his breath at the poor selection. "What do I have to do to find a translation!"

"Translation for what?" a voice asked from nearby, making him almost leap out of his skin. A librarian had come up to a nearby shelf with a trolley of books she was clearly returning to their proper places. He hesitated only for a brief second before fishing out the slip of parchment that his name was written on, carefully unfolding it and showing it to the woman.

"This, I know it's in Japanese and I already know what it means, but I want to know how it's pronounced and..." He said rapidly and gestured at the shelf. "… I haven't found anything here that will help."

The woman tilted her head at the piece of paper and shook her head. "Well you wouldn't, our language sections aren't exactly the place you'd be able to translate something like that but… have you tried the internet yet? There are plenty of websites you can use to find out how it's pronounced especially if you already know what it means."

"The internet?" he asked curiously, sure he'd used it before, mainly for school projects way back when he'd been in elementary school but he'd had no idea that you could look up other languages online, though in hindsight it seemed rather obvious. "Can I use one of the computers here?" He asked uncertainly. "I don't have a membership here and I'm not going to be staying in London for very long either…" he trailed off when the woman smiled at him and pushed her trolley up against a free bit of wall and gestured at him to follow her.

"It used to be that only members of the library had access to our internet but we have a few 15 minute stations for people who want to check their email for a bit or just google something." She explained as she led him up the stairs to the second floor, "You don't have to have a membership to use these computers, you just have to book a spot and type in the password that prints out here at the booking station." She moved over to the computer and did it for him, accepting the small docket that printed out of the small printer and handing it over to him. "Just type in this password and you have 15 minutes, come back if you need another time-slot."

"Thank you!" he said as he darted over to the nearest computer, sitting himself down hastily and pulling the keyboard towards him, clicking the cursor into the box he was meant to type in the password and awkwardly typing it in.

He quickly opened a browser, propped up the parchment with his name on it in front of him and within a minute knew that 15 minutes wasn't going to be enough. Typing 'Noble Skylark in Japanese' into google had brought up a lot of random websites, videos of the actual bird, restaurant reviews, a song with the title and a Wikipedia entry he didn't even bother looking at. Gritting his teeth he moved back up to the search bar at the top and tried 'Japanese Alphabet' and got a more promising result, more promising but… dizzying at the same time, clicking on the Wikipedia entry this time he quickly learned that the Japanese language had THREE written alphabets.

"Who the hell needs three alphabets for one language?" he asked out loud, vaguely horrified at the idea. How in the hell was he going to lear… oh. Two of the alphabets seemed to be 'upper-case' and 'lower-case', Hirigana and Katakana respectively and the last was grouping of words called Kanji? That made it sound slightly less terrifying.

Cursing hotly under his breath when the browser close on him he jerked in his seat and realized that 15 minutes had already passed. He got up out of his seat, over to the booking station and was back in his seat again as fast as he could move, cursing again when he realized the computer's history had cleared when it had shut him out. He wasted a few minutes clicking through google again to find the right website and accidentally found a name for his new Pygmy Puff while he was at it when a random site brought him to a picture of a plate of pastries filled with cream that seemed to be a popular favourite with Japanese people. Shuu Creams.

Reaching into the now inside pocket of his robe turned hoodie he opened the little pocket and looked down at the Pygmy Puff who looked up at him with curious blue eyes. "How do you like the name Shuu Puff?" he asked it quietly and bit back the laugh at the look of pure adoration it sent him. He had to look hastily around to see if anyone heard it when the newly named Shuu let out a squeak of approval. He quickly started rubbing it's fluffy fur to quieten it down and only stopped when the little thing started to purr again, thankful for the soft sound. Someone would have to get in really close to be able to hear that.

Returning his attention back to the computer again browsed through the available websites and blinked. Was that an English to Japanese translation engine? That was perfect! Clicking on the website he was brought he quickly typed in the word 'Noble' and winced at the long list of words he received but snatched up a scrap of paper from the pile sitting near the computer and awkwardly wrote them down using the pen chained to the desk. Working through the long list of Japanese words that had popped up for 'Noble' was an exercise in frustration, none of the ones that had come up on the list matched the Kanji on the parchment. He looked up the 'Kanji' for Skylark to see if any of them matched the name on the parchment and thankfully only came up with only two possibilities. Sukaira-ku and Hibari.

The internet browser closed on him for the second time telling him that another fifteen minutes had passed. He growled softly under his breath as he leaned backwards over his chair, staring up at the ceiling in frustration and drooping over it as irritation crawled up his spine. This was getting ridiculous, one more time! He'd give it another fifteen minutes before giving up, if he didn't find anything in the next fifteen minutes he was going to catch a taxi to the Japanese Embassy. He was sure he'd find someone who spoke Japanese THERE. Another trip to the booking computer and he had his last password for the day and he was left looking down at the last name he had to look up the Kanji for, Hibari. Instead of going through the a translation engine he typed it straight into google, clicked lazily on the first link that popped up and jerked in his seat when it finally loaded. Had he found a match? Snatching up the parchment from where it was sitting propped up between the keyboard and the computer screen he held it up against the Kanji on the screen and felt his heart begin to race. He'd found a match, he finally knew his surname.

OoO

"Hibari…" he tested the word out loud and immediately liked the way it rolled so easily off his tongue, so much easier than the name Potter ever had! "Hibari. My surname is Hibari?" feeling an energized flush flood through him he quickly wrote the name down on a fresh scrap of paper and propped it up so it was sitting next to the parchment, leaning both of them against the computer so he could crack the code on his first name.

Taking a moment to write down the address of the website he'd found his surname on another scrap of paper he typed 'Noble' into the search bar at the top of the screen, hoping that he'd find a better match through this particular website. It had given him the Kanji for his surname after all! He gave up in disgust at the website when he got the same results every other website had given so far and returned to google. He tried 'Japanese Names Kanji' and read through a website that gave him an idea. Apparently a name could be written several different ways, if he could find a name-specific website… Clicking on a likely link he typed 'noble' in for what felt like the hundredth time and waited for the site to load, fingers tapping impatiently as he eyed the loading bar. When the list came back he picked up the parchment with his name on it and positioned it so he could check each Kanji as it showed up and held his breath when one of them… looked like it might match!

Cursing out loud he nearly knocked his chair over when the screen closed for the third time. He raced over to the booking computer, shaking with pent up fury and aggression as he went through the process of booking himself another fifteen minutes. He'd been SO CLOSE! Roaring softly to himself in frustration he typed in the new password and viciously balled the paper up and tossed it across the desk afterwards. Ignoring the looks he was getting from the people around him he pulled up google, quickly found the website he'd been looking at when the computer had shut him out and checked the list of Kanji against the parchment again.

Fifth on the list down. Takeru.

He traced the name with his eyes and compared it with the parchment three times just to be certain, jotting down the name on the same piece of paper he'd put the name Hibari down on earlier. Opening up google again he typed Takeru in and scrolled through the results.

Takeru was the name of a city in Japan and, surprise surprise, could apparently be spelled four different ways, (which explained why he'd had so much trouble finding it!) and seemed to be a highly popular name for comic book characters. There were a handful of famous actors with the same name and it had been the name of a legendary prince of the 'Yamato dynasty' who 'traditionally counted' as the twelfth emperor of Japan, whatever that meant. He read through the Wikipedia article on the man and raised an eyebrow at the mention of how the man had once cross-dressed in order to kill one of his enemies.

Takeru Hibari.

He finally knew his name.

Returning to the Leaky Cauldron Takeru wandered into the pub in a near-daze, constantly looking down at the parchment and paper in his hands as if believing it would evaporate if he looked away. He had to stop for a minute when he went to walk past the bar and curled up a hand to catch Shuu as he bounced up out of his pocket with a squeak. The Pygmy Puff sniffed at the names he was holding so he had to tuck them away into his pocket to stop the curious thing from chewing on the edges. Aside from having his name written on them the parchment was soaked in the potion that had revealed his name, it couldn't be very healthy for a growing baby to eat no matter what the guide on Pygmy Puffs said.

"You're hungry huh Shuu?" he asked the cream coloured ball of fluff, holding him up to eye level and brushing his thumbs across the animal's sides, earning himself a chirruping squeak. "Me too, last time I ate was… hours ago." He ordered a meal for himself and a small bowl of chicken scraps for Shuu to eat and asked for it to be delivered to his room, sitting himself down at the desk to eat and flopping backwards over the bed afterwards.

He'd only been awake for a few hours and he already felt like he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day away, preferably with the covers over his head to keep the rest of the world away for a little while. Rolling to his side he squirmed a little as the material of his new clothes bunched under him uncomfortably and reminded himself that he didn't have anything to change into. He'd tossed the clothes he'd brought with him from Grimmauld Place in the bin after buying the ones he was currently wearing so he didn't even have those to change into. He should have bought some pajamas while he was at Madam Malkins.

"Hindsight…" he muttered under his breath as he pushed himself back up into a sitting position with a sigh, wondering if he should be bothered with going back to the store or going back into Muggle London. Either way he was going to have to get some more clothes soon, supplies too. He looked over to where he'd put his Gringotts trunk and sighed again when he realized that it, the other trunk and the silver box he'd brought with him had resized back to their original size. He might as well sort them into the satchel he'd bought while he was up.

He tapped Quirrell's wand on the satchel to return it to the right size and started sorting through the things his... Harry Potter's ancestors had decided to store in their Gringotts vault, separating the various objects into different pockets. Anything that could even loosely be described as furniture was dumped into a pocket that shrank items as they were placed in. He had a little bit of fun watching the lip of the pocket stretch open and swallow the object but it got boring very quickly. Jewellery got its own pocket as did the Galleons, Sickles and Knuts.

The potions and potions supplies in another. All the books, journals and folders got a pocket of their own too, and anything else that didn't any of those categories were shoved into yet another pocket.

He was in the middle of sorting through a bunch of Goblets when he got the same queer feeling he had from the locket Dobby had brought to Grimmauld Place for him, he snatched his hand away from the golden goblet he'd been about to scoop up and toss into his satchel and sat back on his heels scowling. Exactly how many cursed objects was he going to come into contact with by the time he was through with England?

Snatching up Gryffindor's sword from where he'd left it lying on the bed Takeru didn't even hesitate, he leveled the sword up to the innocent looking goblet and stabbed it through the body, spearing it on the blade and shearing it almost in half. He looked around the room and kicked over the newspaper that had come complimentary with the room and angled the goblet over it as it let out a dying shriek. Shuu dived under the bed and Hedwig startled up out of her nap. Opening the Gringotts trunk to what had been the gold compartment he kicked the now dripping goblet off the blade with his boot into the now empty space and mopped up the black, blood-like liquid that had seeped out of it with the newspaper and dumped the mess in afterwards in disgust.

Sick and tired of sorting through the mess of the second compartment of the Gringotts trunk Takeru decided he'd had enough, he opened one of the last few pockets he had yet to fill with anything and widened the lip, emptying everything else into it. He'd sort through it later. When his patience didn't feel so thin. Picking up the silver box off the floor as it was the smaller of the two he climbed up onto the bed and dragged his satchel with him. The box was about the size of his head, made of delicately carved silver and held together with a latch rather than a lock. Flipping the lid open Takeru peered into the box and felt his jaw drop at the sight that greeted him, rows up on rows of stoppered vials, filled with faintly glowing silvery mist. Glowing mist he'd seen before. In Dumbledore's pensive.

Memories.

Feeling the hair on his arms start to stand on end he stared down at the box and set it carefully on the bed, hand shakily reaching for the handle of his borrowed wand so he could cast a revealing spell on the contents. Select vials began glowing with the warm golden glow of his magic and he felt himself move mechanically to separate them from the wash of other colors, filling his fast growing lap with dozens upon dozens of tiny vials half the size of his pinkie. All of them were neatly labelled in Dumbledore's narrow, loopy handwriting.

He didn't know why he was so shocked. He'd known Dumbledore was a master of the mind arts and finding out that his memories had been stolen from him was just par of course for the discoveries he'd made so far. The extent the man would have gone to just to make the skin he'd crawled out alone… A small voice at the back of his mind made a note of the number of vials in the box and connected it to how Dumbledore kept up his harmless old man act. He must have used this box like Muggles used Usb's, storing everything he didn't need to function day to day in the box and pulling out what he needed when he needed it. No wonder Dumbledore acted so scatter-brained sometimes! Well organized mind? Master Occulmens? Dumbledore had a well-organized mind because he KEPT IT IN A BOX!

His lap filled and overflowed and he had to move the box into his lap and the vials onto the bedspread to make enough room for them all, he got up and dragged the desk chair over by the bed and sat in it to make more room, combing through the racks of memories Dumbledore had stored in the box like a never-ending rolodex. He sorted through years' worth of memories, reading the dates as he pulled them up out of the box. Most were from his years at Hogwarts, some from his time in primary school and some even further into his childhood but strangely nothing before he turned four… Ok, he could see why there was nothing before age four. He was probably a good few years younger than Harry Potter had been when he died. That must have been when he'd been kidnapped. Counting back that was… eleven years, so that meant he must have been kidnapped from his real family in 1985. Silver lining there, he'd just unearthed a clue that narrowed down his age AND when he'd been kidnapped. That might turn out to be useful later.

Flipping through several more racks and recasting the revealing charm a few more times, he closed the lid on the silver box and carefully stored it in one of the two free pockets he had left in his satchel. Like hell he was going to leave that behind, who knew who's memories were stored in there besides his own and Dumbledore's? The revealing spell had shown more than just his own gold tone after all.

Sorting the vials into separate piles according to years taken from him, he worked his way backwards from the memories most recently taken from him. Returning the memories back to where they belonged using Quirrell's old wand and tossing the empty vial to the floor afterwards.

Late nights spent in the Room of Requirement reading up on advanced curses and spells. Heated arguments with Ron and Hermione, arguments that would have fractured their friendship beyond any hope of repair had he remembered any of it. Sirius giving him advice to the beginning steps of the Animagus transformation, recommending which books to read and what spells and potions that would make the whole process easier than anything. More late nights out to Hogsmede and the Three Broomsticks just to get away from the melting pot of pressure that was Hogwarts. Hours spent making plan after plan for escaping everything his life had to offer, researching the ins and outs of the wizarding world whilst looking for some form of escape.

Fourth year and more pointless and seemingly endless arguments with Ron and Hermione. Long moments spent in the Astronomy Tower contemplating the sheer drop. Dumbledore turning to him and casting unfamiliar spell after spell. Hours spent penning letters to the Ministry. More hours spent penning letters to the Daily Prophet. Even more spent pouring over letters he intended to send to the goblins. Talking with Victor Krum about possibly moving to Bulgaria and time spent learning French. Time spent keeping a weather eye on Mad-Eye-Not-Moody, suspicious of yet another DADA teacher paying him a suspicious amount of attention. Reaching out to Neville in friendship, wanting to bond with the boy who seemed so much like every insecurity he kept on the inside.

Third year and nights spent restless and sleepless. Catching Hermione using the time-turner. Reading through books he'd found in dusty areas in the library. Catching Hermione using the time-turner. Finding areas of the castle not on the Marauder's map. Exploring the Chamber of Secrets. Time spent learning memorizing and puzzling out runes and arithmancy on his own. Catching Hermione using the time-turner. Packing up all of his things one night, opening the window of Gryffindor tower and flying out into the night on his broom, intending to just leave and never return. Hours and hours of practicing potions in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, with the ghost in question watching and telling him which way to stir on occasion. Catching Hermione use the time-turner. Lashing out violently against Ron. Staying up late in the night to catch Hermione coming back into Gryffindor tower, expecting only one of her and instead coming face to face with two of her. A growing sense of mistrust towards Hermione and Dumbledore and getting hit from behind with a stunner. Waking up to Dumbledore's face with Hermione twisting her wand tightly between her hands and shaking violently. If he hadn't found it so horrifying he'd have been amused at how many times he'd caught Hermione, as it was he was almost glad he finally knew what had to be the main reason why she looked so frazzled by the end of the year!

Second year and his successful getaway from Hogwarts after being revealed as a Parselmouth on the weekend. A screaming confrontation with Dumbledore asking why he wasn't DOING anything. Noticing Ginny act so strangely and going to the headmaster about it. Noticing Ginny acting strangely and going to McGonagall about it. Stunning Ginny and bringing her to the hospital wing. Lashing out wildly with fists, feet, teeth and magic at Lockheart who had tried to drag him somewhere alone for the Last. Freaking. Time. Being attacked by his own housemates for supposedly being Slytherin's heir. Ducking potentially deadly curses from the Slytherins. Time spent practicing chess with Percy Weasley, who helped him with his homework and always, without fail, tried to smooth his sorry excuse for hair into some semblance of neat and encouraging him to study harder than he already was.

First year and his discovery of the three headed dog on the third floor corridor, barely escaping the encounter with his skin intact and running to tell the closest teacher what he'd just seen. Sneaking into the library at night to read all the books Mrs Pince chased first years away from during the day. Finding the school kitchens and falling in love with the house elves there and the food and love they showered him with. Easily climbing across the roof of Gryffindor tower to get into the girls dorm rooms, tired of waiting for Hermione to come out and meet them downstairs. Discovering a passage way out of Hogwarts and into what seemed like Candy Heaven. Biting Professor Snape and trying to stab the man in the stomach with his wand. Draco Malfoy waiting for him in the trophy room and kicking the other boy in the face so hard he broke his nose. Befriending Mrs Norris by using every trick he'd ever picked up from Mrs Figg and smuggling her into Gryffindor tower. Discovering the high walkways near the ceilings that the pets of Hogwarts used to get around and using them to explore the other dormitories, avoid the stares of the rest of Hogwarts population and cultivate his growing reputation as a wizarding ninja. An entire night spent building a tower up to the ceiling of the Great Hall so he could see if it really was enchanted to look like the sky outside and not just be open to the air. Desperation, the absolute will to keep the philosopher's stone safe, glittering flames blooming to life from his bare hands and burning Quirrel to a pile of fine ash, bright gold flames still licking around the room when Dumbledore stumbles in. The look of abject horror on the man's face and the word 'obliviate'.

He'd been a spastic ball of energy in his first year of Hogarts... He hoped Dumbledore had earned himself a hernia trying to curb all that energy!

Years with the Dursleys before Hogwarts and teaching himself how to pick locks and pockets out of sheer desperation. Learning how to cry at the drop of a penny like Dudley had but getting no reaction other than horror from his Aunt. Fixing the broken toys in Dudley's second bedroom and selling them to classmates for food or money. Doing homework for other classmates in exchange for the same thing. Letting himself out of the cupboard and helping himself to the fridge and cupboard, messily putting things back to make it look as if his Uncle or Cousin had been the one to raid the fridge at night but getting caught one night and receiving the lashing of his life. Numerous visits to the hospital. Visitations by teachers, social workers and the police on many an occasion. Coming up with the idea that emulating Dudley's behavior might get him some of the attention his cousin got and breaking half of the windows of his primary school, spray painting the school lawn blue and stealing all the frogs from the science room and releasing them in the park. Discovering he could heal himself one night after Dudley broke his arm tripping him down the stairs. Discovering he could TELEPORT.

Feeling more than a little dizzy by the time he'd returned the last of the bottled memories back to where they belonged Takeru let the last bottle slip out of his numb fingers to clatter onto the floor to join the rest of the empty vials on the floor. Kicking his boots off he fought off his jacket, tossed it across the room and sent his belt sailing after it. He didn't care anymore, he didn't need pajamas, he… he needed to hide from the world for a little bit. He didn't care that it had barely even hit afternoon. He was going to sleep off the crazy that had just hit him.

Pulling the blankets up over his head and burying himself under the covers Takeru only bothered moving enough to curl Shuu into his hands when the Pygmy Puff kitten came to curl up with him. He'd had enough for the day. He would come back up for air when he was good and ready to face the world again because he had a feeling that he was going to need all the energy he could get to deal with the black trunk Dobby had brought him, considering what the silver box had unearthed he almost didn't want to know what was inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Takeru stayed under the covers for hours, ignoring the knock on his door inviting him down for dinner and trying to do the same with the discomfort that came with trying to go to sleep without changing into something comfortable. The stiff new fabric of his shirt wasn't helping much with that, beginning to scratch at skin that was entirely too unused to everything it touched. Shuu was a source of comfort though, his silky, kitten-soft fur was a delight to pet and the thick pelt felt wonderful under his fingers. The Pygmy Puff's purring also had to be one of the most soothing sounds he'd ever heard in his life.

He didn't realize how long he stayed under the covers until he heard a flap of wings and a small weight settled on top of his shoulder above the blankets. The weight began to walk sideways up until it reached his head and Hedwig pecked at his blanket covered head until the covers pulled back, she cocked her head in curiosity at the purring ball he was cuddling up to and he realized he'd yet to introduce the two to each other.

"He…ttie, would you like to meet a new friend?" he asked haltingly as Hedwig fluffed up in warning as he started to say her real name, managing to change it midway out of his mouth. "His name is Shuu Puff, I call him Shuu for short." He said as he fished the kitten out from where he'd crawled into his collar from where the little guy had gotten into when Hedwig had pulled the covers back. Scooping Shuu out Takeru held him up to show the owl.

The two animals stared at each other for a bit, big baby blue eyes staring into sharp amber for a long moment before Shuu rolled forwards with a happy squeak, butting up against Hedwig's temporarily dark feathers with a chirr of excitement. Hedwig didn't move but her stiff appraising manner seemed to melt at the show of affection. She chivvied the ball of fluff in front of her from where he had pressed up against a wing, held the excitable ball of fluff down with a careful foot and began to preen his fur, treating him with the same general air of long-suffering that she'd once treated Pigwidgeon with.

Laughing at the put-upon act she was giving him Takeru rolled out of bed, suddenly feeling less like he wanted to crawl back into bed and more like he had the energy to sort through the last trunk he had left, the black one. Grimacing as he stepped forward he nudged it with his foot uncertainly, kicking the keys up into his hand when they fell out of one of the locks lining the trunk and flicking through them. Mentally he started matching the keys to the locks, it wasn't a hard job as the keys were all so different from each other that they easily match up to the locks they belonged to. Five in total. Hopefully this wouldn't take too much longer to organize, he was getting heartily sick of the secrets he kept uncovering!

Takeru hesitated as he lifted the lid after unlocking the first compartment but then told himself he was being stupid before opening it fully, lowering himself down on his knees so he could look through the compartment without straining his back. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he got his first good look at the contents. So far it looked pretty innocuous, a few old and heavy tomes, velvet boxes of the kind he'd seen in his Aunts room. These were jewellery boxes. There were also a small pile of pouches that when opened turned out to be full of gold. He scooped up the pouches of gold and tossed them into his gold pocket, that done he checked the contents of the velvet boxes before he tossed them into the right pocket in his satchel and worked quickly through the contents.

He was almost all the way through with checking the velvet boxes and reached for the last one when he realized what this particular compartment had to be filled with, and who the trunk must have belonged to. The compartment was full of stolen goods and the trunk belonged to Dumbledore. There was no other explanation or excuse for the item sitting so innocently in the last velvet box he'd intended to glance at before shoving it into his satchel with the rest of the boxes he'd dug out already.

Oh hell. Why…? The Philosophers Stone. The stone Dumbledore had told him the Flamel's had decided to destroy on their own. The Flamel's that had died in his third year at Hogwarts. This was the stone that they had needed to continue living! He pulled the books over towards him and flipped through them, grimoires. Grimoires Dumbledore had no business owning! These belonged to family lines Dumbledore was clearly no part of! First thing he was going to do when he felt safe enough was owl the Grimoires back to their respective owners. He knew he'd have given ANYTHING to have had the Potter one back when he'd thought he was the last of the family, the families these tomes belonged to would no doubt feel the same way. He'd do the same to the jewellery he found once he discovered who THEY belonged to as well. Everything was neatly labelled with Dumbledore's handwriting, showing not only who they had once belonged to but what enchantments were on them and when they'd been stolen. A nice and easy way of keeping information straight, especially given the way Dumbledore kept his memories in a freaking box… Smart of Dumbledore, but also beyond stupid if someone got hold of it (like Takeru had). Guess he'd never accounted for overly enthusiastic House Elves.

Emptying the compartment he locked it and opened the next. This one was full of shelves full of books. Relaxing slightly Takeru shoved the trunk up against the wall, spelled the lid to stick to the wall so it wouldn't close in on him and carefully tested the stairs that folded out down into the cavernous room, gingerly making his way down into the trunk when they proved to be sturdy. Reaching the first bookshelf Takeru decided he'd been too fast in relaxing. He traced the faded lettering on the spine of the book that had caught his attention and pulled the book slightly off the shelf with one finger, just far enough to get a good look at the cover and shoved it back into the shelf when he recognized the title as one that was 'traditionally' bound in human skin. Wiping his hands on his shirt with his own skin crawling in unease he looked around at the shelves and realised that these shelves… were full Dark Arts books. Some of them were titles he, (only just), remembered Hermione mention were referenced as the darkest in existence.

He climbed out of the trunk without bothering to take any of the books off the shelves. He didn't need any of them. The first chance he was going to get he was going to start a bonfire and personally make sure every one of these books were destroyed. Hermione would have carved his spleen out of his body with her bare hands and eaten it raw if she knew what he was planning to do with them, but aside from her he couldn't think of anyone he knew or trusted to use them as reference-only books. Not even the twins. Their curiosity had always been a stronger force than their moral fiber.

Unsticking the lid from the wall he opened the trunk to its third compartment and gave an irritated grumble at the sight of the potion's laboratory that greeted him. Packing it away didn't take very long though, all he had to do was drop everything into the potions pocket of his satchel. Easy, if time consuming.

The fourth compartment. Lid unstuck from the wall and back again because there was no way in hell he was taking any chances getting stuck inside. Stairs leading down again and more shelves. Lovely. Hesitating before walking down into the compartment Takeru felt the hair on his arms stand on end and a tingling sense of unease crawl up his spine. Urgh, he knew this feeling. He didn't think he was going to like what he was about to see. This compartment was smaller than the Dumbledore's dark arts library. Squat shelves reaching no higher than a heads height above his head and filled with neatly spaced crystal cubes. Some were lighted from the inside, others were unlit but each and every single one of them displayed a small doll about half the height of his hand span. The lit crystal cubes had the dolls floating in the hold of delicate silver chains made of runic chains, sinking into their bodies and keeping them suspended limply in the center. The dolls in the unlit cubes were lying crumpled on the floor of their cubes, looking like puppets with their strings cut.

Reaching out to pick up one of the unlit ones he titled it so that the light coming off the others in the room gave him a better view and took a closer look at the doll now lying limply in the corner, having slid there when he'd tilted the cube. It was incredibly detailed. A young, blue haired woman with her eyes closed, lips parted slackly with her hair falling over her face and robes twisting around a perfectly detailed body. It would have been any child's dream toy… if it hadn't looked so much like a miniature corpse. Feeling goose bumps raise up on his arms Takeru replaced the cube back on the shelf he'd picked it up from and continued further into the room where the lit cubes were being kept and carefully looked at each one as he passed, pausing only when he actually recognized one of the figures suspended inside one of the cubes. Victor Krum.

"What the hell?" he whispered, pulling the other Seeker's cube off the shelf to take a closer look at it, his throat tightening in unease. Unlike the unlit cube the figurine of Victor Krum stayed suspended in the middle when he tilted it to get a better look, it also looked a hell of a lot more alive than the blue haired doll he'd first looked at. Hell this one looked so real that it actually looked like it was breathing, it's chest moving up and down with movement even as the eyes blinked and the mouth even moved soundlessly as it talked to thin air.

He wanted to believe that the cube he was holding was just part of a collection of extremely creepy dolls that Dumbledore didn't want anyone to know he had but memories of recently returned knowledge of runes was telling him otherwise. Carved directly into the bottom of the cube was Isa, the rune that governed mental faculties, focus, ego, self-image and identity. Chained as it was to the other runes that crawling up the sides of the cube… there was only one conclusion he could gain from what the cubes meant and what they were doing to the figures inside them.

Wrestling his knee-jerk reaction to shoot everything in sight with every fire spell he could think of Takeru gritted his teeth against the scream that wanted to bubble up out of his throat and carefully replaced the cube back on its shelf, wobbled over to the stairs and practically crawling up them as his knees tried to fold out under him. Even HE knew what would happen to everyone if he went with his gut instinct and torched the compartment, harming the figurines in any way would replicate the damage done in real life. Voodoo might have been a Muggle idea but magic like this had been what had given rise to the superstition in the first place.

He lunged for the bed and the wands he'd left under the pillow and scrabbled frantically for Dumbledore's wand, sending empty memory vials skittering across the floor and tossed Quirrell's wand aside, not caring where it landed as he raced back into the compartment he'd just left. If Dumbledore's wand had created these cubes, then Dumbledore's wand would be able to cancel the spells on them too! Overpowering every dispelling charm he cast as he stepped back into the compartment he grimly worked his way through the darkened boxes first as they were the closest to the entrance, trying not to look too closely at them or think too hard about who they were as they crumpled to nothing. The lit boxes were both harder and easier to dispose of. On one hand he got to see the charms on them crumple to nothing in front of his eyes. On the other, he got a close up look of the people Dumbledore thought were worthy of turning into pawns.

As he got further into the area with the lit cubes he started to recognize one person for every ten he didn't. Remus, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey… just about every member of the Order was in attendance including Fred and George as well as a sizable group of Hogwarts students. Hermione, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and Ron. Percy Weasley was represented here but his crystal cube had gone almost completely dark and the figure inside looked a good few years younger than he was right now, presumably the boy had broken free of Dumbledore's enchantments on his own somehow… which explained a good deal of the boys behavior these last few years.

Harry caught sight of two cracked and broken cubes, the Isa rune still strongly active with only a few of the other runes still glowing faintly among the broken crystal. Inside them was a singed and blackened young teenage girl with long dark hair that looked horrifyingly like a young Bellatrix Lestrange and a figure that was too badly burned to make out properly inside. The only thing giving away the identity of the owner of the second cube was the edge of a set of Slytherin robes the blackened and burnt male doll was wearing. Percy must have used Light magic to free himself from whatever enchantments were woven into the crystal cubes, Bellatrix and … whoever the Slytherin boy was, (he wasn't going to think too hard about that), had probably used Dark magic to free themselves and destroyed their own minds in the process…

He worked his way through the compartment and the hundreds of unlit and lit cubes, managing to not look too closely at the unlit cubes… until the only intact cube and the only source of light came from a single cube. One that flickered like a dying light bulb. Knowing exactly who was represented in this particular cube as he walked forward Takeru was unsurprised to see himself hanging limply from one arm by two fragile chains of light. It was just about as filthy as he'd been when he'd woken up after drinking the dispeller potion. The doll of himself was breathing shallowly, hair tangled with his head lolling backwards. Blue eyes were blinking blearily into space and the skin of Harry Potter was hanging off his hips like a rotting bodysuit. His doll self was also kneeling partially in the pool of congealed potion and blood that liberally coated the inside of the cube. Forcing the down the bile that was threatening to crawl up his throat Takeru took aim, fired off one last overpowered dispeller and watched in near-numb satisfaction as the crystal cube shattered in on itself and the doll inside dissolving into nothingness. Done with disposing of all the cubes in the compartment he let himself out, turned so his back was to the wall the trunk's lid was sticking to and slid down it.

Scrunching himself up against the wall into a ball he curled in on himself with Dumbledore's wand clenched in a white-knuckled grip. How long had Dumbledore been this corrupted? Dumbledore himself hadn't seemed very 'dark'. Exactly how badly had the man fractured his own mind to even believe that any of this was even anywhere near the realm of acceptable? None of this seemed like it was clearly planned or well thought out and it gave a clear indication of exactly how sane Dumbledore had been… He wondered how long this had been going on for, it must have been a _very_ long time given the silver rolodex of memories he was now keeping in his satchel and the number of people the man had 'collected' as pawns. Not even the worst of what he'd seen of the wizarding world's dark arts practitioners were so mentally shattered. As crazy as Bellatrix Lestrange had been, as insane as Voldemort was… they clearly didn't and couldn't hold a candle to the mess that was Albus Dumbledore.

Uncurling from the ball he'd scrunched himself into Takeru took a deep, steadying breath and released the spell holding the trunk's lid to the wall again. He closed it with more force than was strictly necessary and crawled around to the front to unlock the last compartment. He started cursing softly under his breath when he realized that this last compartment was not only bigger than all the others combined but also had another set of stairs leading down. He knew this last compartment was going to be bad. Considering how each consecutive compartment had gotten worse the further he got into the trunk, this one was going to be a doozy, he just knew it.

Stopping dead halfway down the stairs Takeru swallowed as his head began to spin, he took a moment and let his legs fold out under him as he sank down to sit on the steps so he could wrap his head around what was in the compartment without the danger of falling flat on his face. It was like a mad combination of a potions laboratory, a mortuary, a dungeon and a wizarding hospital ward all rolled into one terrifying room. Shelves lining the walls had books, instruments hung from hooks and ingredients he didn't want to look any closer at were organized in a neat clutter. A draining table lay off to the side and in a large crystal tube was a floating empty skin not unlike the one he'd shed in Grimmauld Place but clearly smaller. Probably a spare Dumbledore hadn't ended up needing. One corner had a set of manacles attached to the wall, a hospital bed covered in straps and another corner of the compartment was dedicated to familiar crystal cubes, a few completed ones sitting on a work bench. Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour, and half a dozen witches and wizards he didn't recognize.

Three empty crystal display cases stood lined up against the far wall of the compartment, gold plaques on each one set with a triangular symbol. One had a violet pillow dead center of the display, not unlike the faded pillow sitting in Olivander's window, one had a naked Muggle's mannequin and the other had a gold lined black velvet jewellers box. The plaques read "The Elder Wand", "The Cloak of Death" and the last read simply as "The Resurrection Stone." A silent and still portrait of a young blond girl was framed above them. The only other thing was a cloth covered object sitting dead center of the compartment, draped with black velvet and had a very familiar silver box sitting on top. It was another silver rolodex of memories, one Dumbledore had clearly wanted to keep separate from the ones he kept in his 'public persona' brain-box.

"Shit." He muttered, uncharacteristically spitting off a few of the more colorful curses he'd picked up from sharing a dorm room with Seamus Finnegan. He was glad he was already sitting down so he could bury his face in his hands for a bit before. Avoiding the mysterious object under the velvet covering for the moment Takeru got up and moved over to the corner of the compartment with the control cubes and spelled them useless, watching in satisfaction as they crumbled and the figures inside them dissolved into nothing. He vanished the floating skin and it's tank sized tube, did the same to what he could see now were vials of blood, hair, bone and teeth and tried not to think too hard about where the old wizard had gotten all this from and then turned to the silver box in the middle of the room.

Picking it up he tucked it under his arm and hesitated, getting a good look at the odd shape of the object Dumbledore had been using as a make-shift table, whipping the cover off when he realized why the shape was making the hair on his arms stand on end. Tossing aside the cloth he stared at the ultimate proof of what had happened to the real Harry Potter and grit his teeth and looking up and away for a bit to get his emotions under control. A coffin. A child's sized coffin. A child's sized coffin emblazoned with the Potter family crest.

Ok, so Dumbledore had gone there. Had taken the body of the real Harry Potter and done god's knew what to it. Something he was NOT going to check because he had enough nightmare fuel already without adding to it on purpose. Climbing out of the trunk Takeru stored the new memory rolodex into his satchel with the other one, marking the box with a big black x on the top so he'd know which was which and closed the trunk as he came to the realization that there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with it in the same room as him.

Slipping Quirrell's and Lockheart's wands into his satchel while he loaded Dumbledore's into the holster on his arm he kicked through the empty vials on the floor to make triply sure he hadn't missed absorbing any memories, checked under the bed for any escapee's and pat down the bed. Satisfied he'd gotten all of them he pulled on his belt, boots and jacket and shrunk the black trunk down and stuck it in a pocket, returned the satchel to bracelet size and slipped it around his wrist where it automatically tightened to the right size.

"He…ttie, Shuu! Come on, we're leaving!" he called, holding an arm out for Hedwig so she landed on his arm and catching the sleeping Pygmy Puff she dropped into his hand. Tucking him away in his pocket as he boosted the owl up onto his shoulder, letting her sit there until they could make their way outside where she could properly stretch her wings. He thumped down the stairs and headed to the bar, paid Tom for the room he'd 'barely used' and slipped out into Muggle London. He didn't care that the Muggle world would ask for identification should he ask for a hotel room, he'd had enough of magic for now. He wanted to bask in the normalcy that came part and parcel with the Muggle world for a bit. At this point he'd sleep better away from magic. He wasn't even going to visit one of the other Magical shopping districts scattered throughout London even though he remembered where they were now.

Stepping out into the Muggle world Takeru helped Hedwig launch into the air and made a quick trip into a supermarket. A few minutes later and he had bottles of turpentine, rubbing alcohol, and lighter fluid, a heaping handful of Mars Bars because he'd practically forgotten the taste of his favorite chocolate bar, several bags of crisps, various assorted snacks and a good selection of drinks from the wall fridge.

If he was going to build a bonfire, he was going to damn well enjoy it, especially with what he was going to burn.

Asking for directions to the nearest cemetery got him a few strange looks but he didn't really care. He had a freaking copse in his pocket. One that had waited long enough to be put to rest. He was directed to a bus stop, boarded the first one headed out to Hanwell cemetery and spent the ride there staring out the window watching for his stop. He got off at the first stop when he started seeing graves and waited for the bus to leave, looked around for anyone watching and squirreled up the metal fence. Carefully positioning his feet in between the decorative spikes at the top, he slinked down again and ghosted into the dark graveyard. He moved right passed the new graves closest to the fence and walked in deeper, past the marble angels and grave stones and tried not to remember the last time he'd been in a graveyard. Heading into the older areas of heavily decorated sarcophagi he chose one that was surrounded on all sides by taller concrete sculptures that was mostly hidden out of direct sight and pulled the black trunk out his pocket.

He opened the trunk, levitated the child's sized coffin out and summoned the velvet drape that had been covering it. "Sorry about this." he apologized as he turned to the sarcophagus he'd chosen, speaking to whoever the grave belonged to as he charmed the marble top to open. "Guess you're sharing space. You don't mind right?" he asked the pile of bones sitting inside "He's just a baby. I promise I'll come and take him to his parents as soon as I can, but if I tried to do that now… If I did, then… someone would just take him and hurt him again and he's had more than enough of that already." He said, swallowing back the tears that were threatening to spill over his suddenly stinging eyes. "Look after him while I'm gone will you? I promise to come back in a few years, I just have put some distance between us for a while, so that they can't hurt him OR me in the way they've been doing."

He carefully tucked the velvet drape around the small coffin and lowered it into the space he'd cleared, tucking the edges of the cloth around it as gently as he could. He brushed a bit of dust off of the cloth and let his hands rest there a bit as he spoke, this time addressing the small form of the person Dumbledore had stolen so much from.

"Rest in peace Harry James Potter."

* * *

><p>Taking care of Dumbledore's trunk of horror was almost disappointingly easy after making sure Harry Potter was laid to rest. Takeru opened up each compartment, liberally coated each of them in the flammables he'd bought earlier, (paying particular attention to the library), and shot bluebell flames into inside of each one. The particular fire spell he'd chosen for the job didn't need oxygen to continue burning, just magic, and there was plenty of THAT in the trunk. After that he didn't have any second thoughts about vanishing it, if it somehow DID pop back up into reality from wherever it went because he'd somehow stuffed up the spell the contents would still burn anyway. If the flames didn't destroy the trunk altogether.<p>

Putting Harry to rest felt like it had lifted a weight of Takeru's shoulders. The act of entombing him, even if it hadn't been under the poor boy's real name, gave his sense of self a huge dose of reality. He was Takeru Hibari and he'd just made sure Harry James Potter would forever rest in peace. No one would disturb him where he'd left him. Muggles would have to get around the enchantments he'd placed on all the tombs in that section of the graveyard and wizards… well The returned memories of spells he'd read up on in preparation for the tri-wizard tournament had been put to immediate and thorough use, if wizards ever figured out WHICH tomb among the ones he'd spelled was the 'important' one of the lot then they'd get a rather nasty surprise if they tried to open Harry's temporary resting place. If they realized anything was out of the ordinary in the first place. Wizards weren't exactly the most observant lot.

With his immediate goal 'taken care' of Takeru moved onto the next goal on his list. He'd figured out his name. He'd gone through every goddamned thing Dobby had brought to him. Harry Potter's soul could rest in some kind of peace, at least until Takeru could return him to his parents properly.

Now?

Now he had to find a way to get to Japan and from what he could remember of all the magical means of doing that… he'd had a better chance of fighting a horde of Horntails on foot and surviving than having a portkey made for him without drawing attention to exactly why he wanted one.

He had no idea how Crouch Jr had gotten away with the portkey on the tri-wizard cup without an Auror popping up to check why one had active… Ok, so there were probably Death Eaters within the Ministry too. If looking up Dark Arts books in Florish and Blotts would get an Auror tapping his shoulder then he didn't want to know what trying to make a portkey would get him. He'd only ever seen Dumbledore make one and knowing the incantation to a spell and casting it were two very different things. Also the spell would behind a very traceable signature. One that was close enough to Harry Potter's to be mistaken for his for the headmaster to fiddle with and match without arising suspicion.

He didn't want any Aurors looming over him. Disregarding the Death Eater's among them, they'd want to know why he wanted to leave the country so bad. They'd want to know why he was in possession of so much gold and wands that didn't belong to him. Truth potions would reveal everything he knew and once the Aurors knew... the whole world would know and that was a mess he was going to go to every length to avoid. He didn't want his name connected with Harry Potter's in any way, shape or form. Ever. He'd had enough of that to last him for the next three lifetimes, thanks.

The Floo network wasn't even worth thinking about. Not only would he need a stupid amount of Floo Powder and dump the explosive lot into the flames at the START of his journey, the Floo connection didn't extend out of the country let alone expand to a global network. Thank god, the journey through one fireplace to the next within ONE country alone was bad enough on its own, extending that dizzying journey into another country was asking to get a rotisserie roasted wizard to pop out the other end.

Apparating was another thought not worth thinking about. He was too young to try pulling it off safely and there was no way in hell he was going to risk splinching himself when it would mean having to give his name to the Healers. Who'd probably notice traces of what had been done to him. He was sure they would, he was still feeling the effects in a bone-deep ache that felt like it wasn't ever going to go away. Aurors would be called. Aurors would find out what had happened to him. Then the Death Eaters and well… rinse and repeat the reason why he wasn't going to bother with trying to make a port-key. He would have thought about trying to fly the distance but he didn't have a broom anymore, and the risk he'd get caught being sighted by Muggles… second year was a rather great example of how easy that was. Aurors again.

With all the magical means of getting to where he wanted tagged with the danger of being caught by Aurors that meant he was going to have to travel via Muggle means. The fastest of which was an airplane. That meant a passport. A passport he'd need identification for. That meant he either needed to find someone who'd be willing to forge him some papers or… he could steal a passport.

The idea was risky, but then again so was everything he'd done up to this point. He'd considered going to the police for a few brief moments but the idea of having to wait who knew how long for the Muggle Police to verify who he was and that he was indeed a kidnapping victim would drive him insane… Also there was the ever present risk an Auror might be called in. There would be one. There was always an Auror working under cover with the Muggle Police. Also media circus. Kidnapping victim coming forward? It would be a riot.

Which was why he was going to see how this whole stealing a passport would work out for him. It was risky… but it was the only one of his plans that didn't involve the immediate risk of an Auror. There would be a few outside the airport watching for muggle-savvy witches and wizards smuggling stuff into or out of the country but who would look at a child? They'd be easy to spot and evade too. He was strangely sensitive to magic now, he'd should be able to pick them out of a crowd now even without the visual cues.

Picking out someone to steal a passport from, that was the hard part.

Takeru sighed as he leaned forward over the café table he was sitting at and scanned the people walking past him out of the corner of his eye while pretending to read the world map he'd bought at a book shop. He was currently sitting in a busy shopping mall just outside Heathrow airport, having taken a taxi there as soon as he'd left the graveyard and was waiting around for a likely target. Hundreds of travelers passed through here on their way home, it was a target rich environment that wasn't quite as risky to hunt in as the airport. Security concentrated on the shops themselves and kept an eye out for shoplifters. He'd done his fair share of shopping while he was here too, trying to blend him in with other shoppers and make sure he didn't look too out of place among everyone else as he followed after a likely looking targets.

So far he'd ended up trailing several small families, scoping them out before deciding not to steal from them. The families in question had kids that were too young or too old for him to pass himself off as one of them. One family had come very close but one look at their patched and worn suitcases had been enough to deter him from stealing the kid's passport. He wasn't about to make their lives even more miserable than it already was.

Taking a break from watching people for prospective targets Takeru reached into a pocket and fiddled with the empty vial he'd removed and absorbed from the first memory catalog of Dumbledore's that he'd found. He'd been checking through it again in the privacy of the back seat of the taxi for any more memories he'd missed, he'd found a good handful more of _those_, and found a vial labelled 'Japanese' sitting among the vials of other languages had caught his attention. He'd locked himself into the first bathroom he'd come across after coming into the shopping center and let the language sink in. Not noticing any immediate difference to the way he thought he'd ducked into the bookshop, found the Japanese section and understood everything.

He might have bought a few more Japanese novels than he'd intended there, most of them being cheap romance novels and cheesy detective stories, but the sheer novelty of understanding what was written… He wondered what listening to Japanese might be like and how he might to respond to it. Would it be like being a parselmouth? Or would it feel natural? Whichever it was he'd find out soon, or hopefully soon. Aiming for the bin sitting just a little ways away from him Takeru stood up a little in his seat and tossed the empty memory-vial inside, smiling to himself in satisfaction as it bounced off the rim and cleanly inside. There was no need to keep it after this, he wasn't going to need to return the language back to the memory vial and storing another memory inside it would only contaminate the new one.

Stepping fully out of his seat Takeru pulled up the world map up from the table he'd been using and wavered as he stepped back, wondering if he should clean up the mess. The various half-drunk bottles of soft drinks and opened snacks that he'd been working his way through to decide which one he liked best were littered across the surface, casualties of both his boredom while waiting for people who looked like they'd just come from the air-port and his newfound curiosity. Years of being the Dursley's House-elf had him wanting to clean off the table, the returned memories he had of the worst of those memories made him want to take out his wand and make a more permanent mess…

Deciding that it wasn't worth calling attention to himself and not wanting to stress the poor cleaning lady he could see coming in his direction, he stuffed the little devil inside himself down and promised himself that he'd take out his frustration at the reminder of the Dursleys on the first deserving target that crossed his path. Screw Gryffindor nobility, he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore and besides, "Eye for an eye" had practically been LAW in the tower. He couldn't reach the Dursleys now for revenge, but there were perfectly good targets he could sharpen his claws on in anticipation of said revenge in the meanwhile. He just had to look for them.

He was sick to death of holding everything he felt back behind the polite mask he'd adopted at Hogwarts. He'd do whatever the hell he wanted. Forget everyone else's idea of how he SHOULD act. He was going to enjoy his life from here on out and if that included getting his own back for things 'Harry Potter' would have forgiven and forgotten? All the better. He was Takeru Hibari and anyone who compared him to The Boy Who Lived was going to be in for a rather rude surprise.

And possibly a punch to the face.

He took a brief moment to help the cleaning lady clean off his table in sheepish and silent apology for what he'd come close to doing. He might want revenge for the treatment he'd suffered from the Dursleys but that didn't mean he wanted to turn into one of them. He especially didn't want to turn himself into another Dudley. That kind of wanton destruction was just the kind of thing the overly large blond would have done. He was going to have to be careful with himself, the returned memories might have answered a lot of the questions he'd had over the years but they also brought with them issues he hadn't been able to work through as a child, now that he knew they existed he would be able to work through them as they surfaced.

Which would hopefully be easier now that he knew more than his younger self did and was, hopefully, mature enough to deal with them…

Folding his map and putting it into a pocket Takeru let himself melt back into the crowd of shoppers, buttoning his jacket closed against the chill of the air-conditioned mall as he went and let the warming charms sewn into it take into effect at the action. He needed to find someone sooner or later, he was getting tired of wandering around the shops already!

Catching sight of a likely looking couple with a son around his age he shadowed the group for a bit, sticking a fair distance away as he scoped them out but beat a hasty retreat when a relative came grinning up behind him and asking if he had a crush on his nephew. Rushing out of the store as fast as he could without looking like he was running Takeru made his way to the opposite end of the shopping mall and hid inside a crowded clothing store, face flushed red with the realization he'd been mistaken for a girl. Worse than that, a girl with _crush_. Ok, so he was going to have to be a bit more subtle with shadowing people he was trying to steal a passport from, lesson learned. God how embarrassing! Still, at least he hadn't been taken for the pick pocket he was trying to be, small mercies.

Staring at himself in a nearby mirror he gave his flushed reflection a wry once-over and could admit that he could see why the man had made the mistake of thinking he was a girl. His hair, even if it was mostly tucked under his jacket, was noticeably long. It was silky thanks to the potion Dobby had smoothed into his hair and framed his face with a few stray strands. His eyes, goddamn it, had long lashes and were a deep sky blue colour that contrasted starkly with his black hair and pale skin. The high blush across his face didn't help, overall if he had been a girl? He'd have made quite the lovely one.

The face coupled with his hair and the buttoned jacket gave the overall impression of a girl, an impression that a haircut and some very strictly boy's-only clothes might not even dissuade. He wasn't going to be mistaken as a girl for the rest of his life was he? That would lessen as he grew _right_? That wouldn't last _forever_ right? He'd grow taller, older and goddamn it, he couldn't even picture what he'd look like! As Harry he'd looked forward to his features maturing into something along the strong lines of James Potter's face but now? Grumbling at the uncertainty that was now crawling up his spine Takeru made a face at his reflection and poked a tongue out at it as he walked away. Looking around the shop he'd rushed into for a jacket he might buy that would sit across his chest without giving the impression of… assets he didn't have, maybe he should get a new one, a... manlier one. He'd start using this jacket again when he got to japan and after a haircut.

Realizing he'd walked straight into the girl's section without realizing it he made another face and twined around the racks so he could make his way into the boys section. Pausing involuntarily in disgust at a display manikin he stared, attention caught by the gold and silver out of the corner of his vision and looked up in sheer disbelief at the hot pink dress on display. Covered from shoulders to elbows with silver sequins with gold sequins around the cuffs and hem, this was a coat that Rita Skeeter would have been proud to own had it been in her size and not something for a teen. Curious and unable to help himself he reached for the price tag and boggled at the amount the shop was asking for the thing. He wouldn't have paid that much if he'd genuinely been a girl _and_ the sequins themselves had been real gold and silver!

He went to drop the tag when a shoulder bumped roughly into his, turning he opened his mouth to apologize but was interrupted when he was shoved again, this time quite purposely into the mannequin wearing the dress he'd been goggling at. Reaching out to grab it to stop his fall he caught it as it began to tip forward and hastily righted it, pulling his hands back to himself sharply when he realized that he'd been about to rip off a good section of the sequins with the rough handling. He did NOT want to be responsible for that price-tag. Biting back the apology that wanted to leave his mouth he turned to look at the person who'd bumped into him, pushing a few strands of hair out of his face as he did so and took a few steps back so he was no longer in danger of falling, or being pushed, into the mannequin again.

Long blond hair was pulled back in perfectly coiffed pig-tails with the ends pulled into stiff unnatural curls with bangs artfully arranged around her face. Pink brightly painted lips curled over white teeth. Pale blue eyes stared into his own and the young girl's face was set in a look he'd seen on his Aunt's face more times than he could count. A manicured hand curled up in front of the sneering mouth as her eyes trailed down to his feet to back up to his head in silent distain and he knew that he'd been mistaken for a girl again, only this time, by another girl. A girl who was wearing far too much make-up for her age. How old was she? She looked around the same age as a second year… so twelve years old? What was she doing wearing so much makeup? It looked disgusting on someone so young!

"Oh whoops, did clumsy little me bump into you? I am SO sorry, I guess you were too busy… window shopping to see me coming." The girl tittered, tilting her head ever so slightly at the mannequin that he'd been staring at and back at him again, a false smile of sincerity slashing across her face. "It's so pretty isn't it?" She asked, running a light hand over the fabric of the ghastly dress and it's overly gaudy sequins, oh so delicately brushing over them and casually lifting the price tag to look at the price he'd been boggling at before. "Oh and it's so cheap too!" she cooed, a smirk appearing on her face at the flabbergasted look that must have passed across his face. "Mama! Papa! I'm getting this one!" She called out to a rich looking couple who were standing a few feet away and seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument.

About where they were going to be staying for the week.

Feeling the spark of an idea come to him Takeru bit his lip and wavered. The girl who'd bumped into him was around the same height as he was. Her blond hair… well with the potions he had available he'd be able to get the colour right if not the exact style and he could work around that. With a bit of the makeup he'd tossed into his satchel from Lockheart's trunk he might even be able to pass himself off as her easily enough… He'd been focusing on boys his age that he'd be able to pass himself off as but what if he could… pass himself off as someone completely different?

Thinking about it for a bit only made the idea seem more feasible. It would be easier on him afterwards too wouldn't it? The authorities would look for a girl who smuggled her way into Japan when they realized the girl's passport was stolen instead of a boy. Screw his pride, if it helped him get him away from England and towards his family and freedom he'd do anything! Also hadn't his name-sake done something like this? Cross-dressed as a girl to get to his enemy? Besides which, when was he going to get another golden opportunity like this? He'd been here for hours already stalking families and had only found one when he'd stopped looking. If he let this opportunity go there was no guarantee he'd get another one. Life hadn't ever been that kind to him, he'd never get another chance like this even if he watched for it!

"I… it would look c... cute on you." He forced out of his throat at the girl and pasted what had to be a stilted smile across his face. It didn't matter if he didn't look sincere, given her attitude she wouldn't be expecting sincerity anyway. She was trying to do what her Aunt did when she showed off her newest clothing and jewellery to the neighbours, trying to show off her wealth.

He'd only ever seen this kind of interaction from the sidelines. Could he mimic his… Harry's Aunt? The girl's parents were distracted with arguing with each other. If they had instilled manners like this to their daughter they couldn't be too different from what the Dursleys had tried to pretend to be. Effortlessly wealthy. They looked it too. The mother was an older and more presented version of her daughter, just as perfectly coiffed as her with an air of refinement Petunia Dursley had tried and failed to exclude over the years. The father was wearing a pressed suit with large cufflinks, was clean shaven with neatly cut hair and he had a fake looking gold tan. He was arguing with his wife over where they were going to be staying for the rest of their stay in England and talking to someone on the phone at the same time. He had an ear-bud in his ear and calling out distracted orders to his stressed looking secretary standing outside the store.

The secretary who was standing outside with his own phone and everyone's luggage, passports sitting in an outside pocket of the suitcase closest to him.

"It would look cute on you too!" the girl enthused, pulling one off the rack and pressing it up against his shoulders, "You should get one too!" she pushed lightly, a pointed smirk crossing her face when he visibly blanched at the idea. "I'm totally trying one on!" she declared, "Hold this for me?" she demanded without really asking, slinging her purse off into his hands and strutting off into the changing rooms with a flounce to her step he'd only seen previously in Draco Malfoy's stride.

"If you insist…" he murmured under his breath when she was safely in the change rooms. He looked around the shop carefully under the cover of pushing his hair back away from his face, taking in the couple still arguing near the entrance of the shop and the shop clerk who was clicking through the computer. He waited till no one was looking in his direction and casually popped open her fluffy purse. He was about to teach this Muggle twin of Draco Malfoy's a lesson on insulting people unnecessarily and her family the importance of keeping a good eye on their possessions and what they gave their little girl… starting with a few of the girl's credit cards. Why did they think it was a good idea to let the little idiot have this many credit cards in the first place?

Slipping two of them into a pocket, just in case one didn't go through, he walked outside the store to where the stressed looking secretary was. "She told me to hold it for her." He explained to the man in a falsely sweet voice as he held it out. "I'd stay for a bit if I could but I have to get going, my brother is coming to pick me up soon." He smiled apologetically, made as if to hand it to the man and let a boot skid across the polished floor, the purse drop out of his hands so it slid past the man where he'd be forced to retrieve it and let himself fall to his knees in a controlled tumble.

Takeru scrambled to his feet quickly, apologizing frantically and waved him off when the man went to help him up. "Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry! My shoe - the sole is coming away, I've been tripping over it all day. I'm really sorry!" he laughed softly, darting out a sharp hand to snatch at the now unprotected passports and shoved them into his pocket while the man was distracted.

"It's alright little miss." The man soothed as he retrieved the purse. "Everyone slips and I dare say your new friend won't miss a chance to buy a new one if it's damaged in any way." He remarked wryly, nodding his head at the store he'd just left and winking an eye at the expression that crossed his face at the idea of calling the girl a 'friend.' "Off you go now, before her highness realizes her temporary toy is gone."

Taking the permission given, however loosely granted, Takeru speeded away as fast as he conceivably could without making it too obvious, heart hammering in his chest. He walked back over to the other side of the shopping mall and darted quickly into a few select stores, coming out with clothes and accessories that looked passingly enough like the girl's. He locked himself in a disabled toilet and carefully unpacked his purchases, resized his satchel and hung it off the hook set in the door and hesitated at his reflection. Pulling out the girl's passport he packed away her parent's passports into his satchel and compared his face to hers in the photo.

"See you on the other side, Catherine Marianne Henderson." He muttered before turning away to change, feeling awkward as he shrugged out of his own clothes and into the awfully pink outfit he'd bought. Pink and white jeans, hot pink t-shirt with a glittered kitten printed on the front surface, a short white jacket cut just under his elbows and strappy sandals set with faux jewels he had to remove his socks to wear. Pulling the sleeping Pygmy Puff out of his pocket so he could transfer him into the breast pocket of his new jacket he bundled his clothing into a bag, shoved it into a pocket of his satchel, reached into the potion's pocket and fished out the right colour change potion and drank it down.

Taking a quick peek into the mirror he grimaced at the change, not liking what he was seeing in the least bit but grudgingly admitting to himself that he was starting to see a resemblance, the potion had dyed his hair and eyebrows a shade of blond that was a few shades darker than the girl's. Yeah, his idea might just work. Corking the potion he slipped it into the front pocket of his new jeans, jeans he was going to toss at the first opportunity, and fished out a wrapped parcel from his satchel, one of Lockheart's many purchases of 'compact powder'.

If whispered conversations between Parvarti and Lavander were correct, (and if he remembered them right), this was a fairly expensive item that was charmed to mimic a makeup artist's technique. All you had to do was picture the look you wanted and pat your face with it. Popping the case open he eyed the gold pad and the silvery powder with a gimlet eye, wondering if it would do as advertised, he _was_ trying to make himself look like a Caucasian girl... Screwing up his courage, and his face, he closed his eyes focused on the image of the girl he'd stolen the passport from and attacked his face with the powder, blindly coating his face with the fine silvery powder as he held his breath. Once he was sure he'd got a good coat of the stuff over his face he peeked an eye open to give his reflection a tentative look and nearly jerked back in surprise, eyes widening at the familiar stranger looking back at him. One who'd easily pass for Catherine Henderson's twin if not the girl herself.

Urgh, what a sight. Makeup was insane.

He put on a pair of clip-on earrings, resized the satchel so he could slip it around his wrist. He teased at the small opening still visible, slipped his wand inside and pulled a few brightly coloured bangles over it. He pulled his hair into a rope over his shoulder, cleaned up the mess of plastic bags and price tags, tossed the lot into the bin in the corner of the bathroom and let himself out, giving his reflection a last grimace as he pocketed the passport he'd stolen.

Walking into a hairdressers he made up a story of an unexpected birthday party and no one to help 'fix' his hair and was sat down in a free chair with the hair dresser fussing with the ends of his hair. Ten minutes and more money than Petunia Dursley had ever forked over for any of her haircuts in the past and his hair was trimmed, styled and done up in a pair of curly pigtails that had him looking almost exactly like Malfoy's Muggle twin.

After that he was out of the shopping mall and on the phone with the airport, credit cards in front of him and wrinkling his nose at his reflection as he dialed the airport. Once upon a time Vernon Dursley had been sent over to France to sort out a deal with Grunnings, faced with spending the three nights in the country of 'Slimy bastards', as he'd put it, he'd come up with a sob story about his darling wife and son in the hospital and fed it to the airline. They'd fast checked him onto a flight and had him in a First Class seat without any out-of-pocket expense within minutes. Or so he'd bragged to Petunia.

Taking inspiration from the story and pretending to be Catherine Henderson's father for this, Takeru fed the woman who picked up the phone a story of a father in Japan that was terminally ill who'd asked for his granddaughter to come visit her. He was very busy, would they please make sure she got to Japan safely? She would take a taxi straight out of the airport to her Grandfather's house, she knew the way. He gave the details the woman asked for and carefully read out the number of the credit card he'd stolen, heart hammering in his chest while waiting for confirmation that the transaction had gone through and going weak at the knees when it did.

He had a flight to Japan booked in an hour and he had that long to get there or it would leave without him and he'd be left with a ruse that would become thinner the longer he stayed in England. Slipping on a thin pair of white gloves as he stepped out of the phone booth he hailed a taxi.

"Where to little miss?" the driver asked as he got into the passenger's side.

"Heathrow Airport please." Takeru directed, keeping his head down and voice soft, if he was going to pull this off then the act had to start here. "I'm going to visit my sick grandpa in Japan…"


	6. Chapter 6

Heathrow Airport was huge. That was the first impression Takeru got as he got out of the taxi at the entrance after paying the driver. Mindful of the stupidly strappy sandals he was wearing he took a deep, steadying breath before he started to walk in with Catherine's passport gripped tightly in his gloved hands. He was shaking lightly, both from nerves and excitement, and if he hadn't been controlling his breathing he'd be panting a little too as his heart raced. He was reaching a level of emotion he'd never reached before, a height not even Quidditch let him reach.

He could almost _taste_ his freedom.

One more steadying breath, just to make sure he wasn't going to pass out from the overload and to calm his heart rate, and he walking forwards to follow the signs leading from the entrance to the check-in counter. Putting on his best smile as he reached the front desk he introduced himself. As Catherine Henderson.

"Any check-in luggage?" the girl behind the counter asked as she took his stolen passport from him to arrange everything, fingers flying expertly over the computer's keyboard.

"No, I've only got what I'm wearing, our suitcases were already sent ahead to the hotel so Daddy said I should buy whatever I need when I get to Japan." he murmured to the woman, keeping his eyes down and his voice soft, biting his lip in very real worry, would they buy this? "I…is that ok?" he asked.

The woman smiled reassuringly at him from behind the counter and gestured a brown haired lady forward from where she'd just walked in from a door behind the counter. "Of course it is sweetie, we don't mind at all, traveling without luggage just makes everything much easier for us to get you on the plane faster!" she enthused, "This is Karina, she's going to get with you on your plane and make sure everyone takes good care of you ok? Don't worry about anything else, we'll get you to your grandpa as soon as we can, just follow her." The woman said as she handed a sheaf of papers and her passport over to Karina, who talked briefly into the radio she was holding before gesturing at him to follow her.

First hurdle cleared. They hadn't even blinked at him. So far they seemed to believe he was Catherine Henderson. Karina led him through the airport at a brisk pace, leading him past the general public where he ducked his head and avoided the eyes of everyone he walked past. He was near-certain that there was be at least one Auror in the crowd, he could feel the wizard's magic starkly against such a muggle background.

He had a moment of panic when he was led through security and the metal detector when he was asked to remove his jacket, jewellery and shoes. Would Shuu be picked up on the muggle equipment? Would his satchel be recognized as something that wasn't exactly what it looked like it should be? He almost forgot to breathe as he was handed back his 'jewellery' and breathed out a great heaving sigh of relief he quickly disguised as a yawn when he was handed everything else without a blink.

"That's such a cute bear!" Karina grinned as he carefully curled his hands under the still-soundly sleeping Pygmy Puff Kitten and slipped him back into a pocket, glad that the small animal had managed to thoroughly tire himself out before-hand. "Where did you get her?"

Bear? Oh right, muggle. She wouldn't be able to see what Shuu really looked like without an amulet or something similar, not without having at least a spark of magic, did the Pygmy Puff really look like a stuffed toy on the x-ray?

"Him." He corrected before he could stop himself, remembered that he was supposed to be a girl right now and tried to giggle. It came out stilted. "His name is Shuu."

The woman's eyes seemed to soften a touch and she reached out to hand him his jacket and shoes. "Everything is going to be ok sweetie, just relax and you'll be in Japan before you know it."

Takeru averted his eyes and nodded as he took the items from her, pulling them and everything else back on, forcing his tight shoulders to relax as he shrugged into his jacket. He'd be doing himself no favors acting so nervous, if anything he'd just draw more unwanted attention to himself. Best keep his mouth buttoned for the rest of the trip, he'd be less likely to trip over it that way, he'd almost forgotten the lie he'd fed to the airline over the phone.

Karina led him through a hallway full of electronic display boards and checked them to find his flight and gate number and led him to a small lounge area in front of the right one. She gestured for him to sit down and wait and sat down next to him to explain exactly what was happening next, nodding at a man standing in front of the closed doors of the 'gate'.

"We just have to wait for the Agent to tell us when the plane is ready for us to board and come when he calls out our group number, people are seated by rows so it would get confusing for the poor guy if we hopped in line right? When you get on board you look for you seat number and stow your baggage in the overhead compartment before you sit down… if you had carry-on baggage." The woman corrected herself with a small laugh, one that he hastily replied with an awkward smile. "You'll find your seat by checking the numbers above each row." She finished explaining as she showed him the boarding pass the check-in desk lady had given her.

Faking interest he gave it a glance and looked back to the flight agent standing at the gate, Takeru swallowed against his nerves and carefully made sure his hands weren't in any danger of clawing through the fabric of his jeans. So close. A million thoughts and possibilities ran his head as he waited, eyes fixated. What if Catherine's parents realized their passports had been stolen before he got on the plane? Or while he was on board? Would they turn the plane back around? Would he get arrested? What would happen if he got arrested?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he startled at the touch on his shoulder and blinked back into reality. He scrambled to his feet and felt his heart rate pick up again as he was led through the gate and… onto the plane. Karina had him seated but didn't sit next to him like he was sure she'd do, instead she handed him Catherine's passport and a packet with a pair of headphones before joining the other flight attendants with a "Just wave me over if you need anything else alright sweetie?".

"Okay." He replied, shifting awkwardly as he leaned back in his seat. Passengers around him got settled in their seats, their baggage was stowed away and secured with the help of the flight attendants. The other flight attendants continuing on to check if everyone was comfortable and secure as they began to get the plane ready for take-off. One of them was helping a passenger squeeze his overly large bag into the overhead compartment and another was waving in a last minute arrival, who panted with exertion as she was escorted to a seat.

Twelve hours and he'd be in Japan. Would his luck hold out for that long?

Curling up into his seat Takeru watched the flight attendants through his ridiculously long eyelashes as they closed the door after the last passenger and sealed it, they ran perfectly manicured fingers along the seams of the door and fastening the handle with a thick leather belt. A chime brought his attention to the screen set into the back of the seat in front of him and a safety video started playing. Takeru reached for his seatbelt when indicated and made sure to tighten it properly and curiously craned his head to see where the flight attendants were pointing out the emergency exits. He'd been unaware that there was more than one way to get out of the plane. He thought there'd only be one way out and assumed it was the same way he'd come in, though in hindsight it was rather obvious. Safety procedures. The wizarding world must have knocked a good dose of common sense out of him if he was forgetting something this simple, also hadn't he told another wizard to pay more attention to what Muggles were doing just a few hours ago? He should try following his own advice.

Feeling the plane start to move he rubbed a hand over his sore eyes as he felt them start to lid as the exhaustion he'd been keeping at bay for the last few hours decided to remind him he was running on next to no sleep. Hiding in the bed at the Leaky Cauldron didn't count, he hadn't actually slept, just stayed under the covers willing the nightmare to end. Maybe he could catch a nap on the way over?

When the plane's wheels left the runway he sagged bonelessly into his seat with a wince as the tension he didn't know was gripping him bled out of his system. The heart beat that had been drumming constantly in his ears since stealing his passport began to ease and the twisting sensation in his stomach eased up a bit as well. No one was calling for the plane to stop. No one was confronting him to get off the plane and neither was anyone looking at him suspiciously. He… was in the air. He was in the air and all of his worries were blown away, even if just for the moment, the feeling was almost like he'd gotten on a broom and he could FEEL himself decide that he could stress himself to death about everything else later. Smiling weakly at Karina as she came by to give him a blanket, pillow and night mask, he dizzily let his eyes close as he leaned his chair back and into the pillow, hitching his blanket up over his head.

He had half a day to waste away and sleeping through most of it sounded like a fantastic way to waste the time in between.

Letting himself drift off Takeru was jolted out of seemingly a deep oblivion by the clatter of the food trolley as it came down the aisle and a flight attendant started handing out food. He blearily worked his way through the marinara pasta and chicken, soda and salad he was given and handed his tray back to the woman when she came back around. He snagged the pudding cup and spoon off the tray with his still-gloved hands to save for later and had a bit of a blond moment when he'd gone to start eating his food. He had been halfway to removing his gloves when he remembered exactly why he was wearing them and firmly tugged them back on, he was so not going to leave his fingerprints behind. The authorities, when they discovered the theft and use of Catherine Henderson's passport, would no doubt dust his seat for them. He didn't have to worry about anything he'd touched before the airport, by now everywhere he'd been would have had at least half a dozen other visitors and that included the table he'd been sitting at, the bathrooms he'd used and the phone booth, but he wasn't about to undo all of his hard work just because he had a hard time gripping his freaking fork!

Folding back his blanket he got up out of his seat with a wince and stretched his aching body a bit, his skeleton protesting the movement with a series of gross snapping and popping noises while he headed over to the closest bathroom, locking it behind him. He gave his reflection a once over, tugged a pigtail back into place, wiped the drool away from the corner of his mouth, cleared the sleep from his eyes and gave his face a brief pat with Lockheart's makeup to fix up the smudged areas to make sure the makeup didn't lose its effectiveness before he reached his destination. He pulled his gloves off for a brief moment to use the bathroom sink and wiped the tap down afterwards with a wet napkin, flushing it directly afterwards and pulling his gloves back on.

Returning to his seat revealed that someone had stolen his unused sleep mask but left his other things untouched, blanket, pillow, pudding, ear buds and all. Looking like a girl had its advantages, he was pretty sure that had he looked like a boy he'd have returned to an empty seat. Sniffing pointedly at the theft he slid back into his seat and turned his attention to the screen set into the back of the seat in front of him, turning it on and looking at the number of hours he had left until he landed.

How the hell had he slept through ten hours without even twitching? Shouldn't he feel at least a little refreshed after a sleep that long? He still felt like he wanted to curl right back under his blanket and go right back to sleep! Resisting the urge to rub at his tired face Takeru unwrapped his ear buds and searched around for where to plug it in. He located it in the arm rest and pulled the screen's remote from its cradle so he could select what movie he wanted to watch as he put them in his ears. At least he could occupy himself while waiting for the plane to land…

Peeling the lid back on his pudding he worked his way through it slowly as he watched the movie he'd chosen, a Disney film called Tangled, absently pulling his blanket back up over his shoulders as he did, hoping the warmth would ease a bit of the ache in his bones. The movie was alright and he surprised himself by liking it, even if it did have him wincing at the uses the heroine put her hair to, have him wish he knew how to fast-forward through the songs, (Didn't everyone get sick of singing all the time? Why was everyone so irritatingly cheerful?) and that it didn't remind him so much about his own situation. A kid stolen from her parents for her power and tricked into believing she was someone else?

Bleh.

The ending made his insides squirm a bit as he tried to picture what his parents would look like and how they'd react. His mind wandered over to whether or not he had any siblings and how THEY would react to him popping back up in their lives. He tried not to listen to the nasty little voice in the back of his head that was trying to convince him he'd made a mistake in going to all this trouble just to find them because what if… they'd been in on it? In on Dumbledore's idea and had given him up willingly? There was still so much he didn't know about his circumstances that he was starting to doubt his decision to leave England.

God, he was acting like the heroine from Tangled! Excited about leaving home one minute, doubting himself the next then going right back to excited and then depressed again. Shaking his throbbing head he unplugged his headphones and removed them and replaced the remote back into its bracket. The answers he was looking for had to be in that second rolodex he'd found, the one he'd marked as having come out of the trunk compartment that had previously held Harry Potter's coffin.

He was so involved in his own thoughts that he almost didn't hear the announcement come over the speakers telling everyone to prepare for landing. As it was it took the screen he'd just watched Tangled on to flash a warning for him to buckle up his seat belt up again for the landing to get his attention. He scrambled to do so, sending his pillow flying onto the floor at his feet with the blanket flopping over it. He snapped himself in and tightened the belt as directed, his excitement levels peaking again and momentarily banishing both his exhaustion and the ever-present ache thrumming through his body.

The landing wasn't a smooth one, the whole plane bumped a few times and shook as the tires hit the runway, Takeru's stomach was roughly yanked downwards. The reason why they'd been told to buckle up for landing becoming immediately clear when he had to hold onto the arm rests to stop feeling like he was going to be flung out of his seat. Tires screeched and the brakes squealed loudly before the plane started taxing towards its assigned gate and a woman's voice came over the overhead speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed at Haneda International Airport. The time is now Seven AM and the weather conditions are clear, bright and sunny. Please do not turn on your electronic devices and remain in your seats until the airplane has finally come to a stop."

Karina, the flight attendant who'd followed him onto the plane from the Heathrow Airport, guided him through his first steps into Japan. She was now wearing a concerned look on her face that she didn't bother hiding from him as she guided him off the plane. They moved past the arrivals lounge through to baggage claim, towards the doors to the exit and where he could see taxi drivers waiting for passengers. He knew why she looked so worried, it had to be because he probably looked about as healthy as he felt, which at the moment, wasn't very healthy at all.

He felt strained, tired and worn down to a thread. The 'nap' he'd had on the plane had been nowhere near enough to energize him and his whole body felt like one big bruise. He should have put off coming into Japan when he was sure he was recovered from having ingested the undiluted dispeller he'd found in Lockhearts trunk. The magical backlash of freeing himself from the false skin… not to mention the backlash from destroying the cube his puppet-self had been hanging from and absorbing years-worth of memories whilst casting spell after spell with a borrowed wand… was finally slamming home. Hitting him like a hammer at the worst possible time and it seemed like he'd finally found the threshold for his ability to work through pain.

Also he was only days removed from the confrontation with Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries. He needed a healer, or at least the potion Madam Pomfrey had told him was used to counteract the damage the Curciatus Curse inflicted. He needed to get to either a magical district or possibly somewhere he could brew the potion in peace but... His body wanted to shut down and 'reboot' like it had practically yearly since he'd gotten his first Hogwarts letter. Two days of Dobby hovering over him clearly hadn't been enough for him to fully recover. Right now his body needed sleep, the kind of undisturbed sleep that had him blacking out for days and waking up fully recovered.

Unfortunately he was smack-dab in the worst possible place to take a 'nap'. He was in possession of a stolen passport and. Dressed. Like. A. Girl. He didn't have the time or luxury to pass out here. He was going to make it out of Haneda International Airport without getting caught! Maybe he should down a Pepper-Up? It would strain him even more and he'd suffer for it later but he knew that he must look positively grey under his borrowed makeup and his steps were unsteady, but if he could pass it off as sleep deprivation and worry...

"I'm ok Miss Karina." He reassured the flight attendant without pausing in his stride towards the taxis and his freedom. He just needed to get into a taxi, down the Pepper-Up when he didn't have anyone hovering over him and have the driver drive somewhere he could ditch his disguise without getting caught on camera. Then he could pass out wherever the hell he wanted. Easy. Just a few more steps. "I'm just so sleepy, that little nap… was… nowh…ere… near… en…ouh…h…"

Takeru heard his voice fade as if he was hearing it from a distance, like someone else was speaking for him, and he swore mentally as his vision greyed and blurred around the edges.

He didn't even feel it when he hit the ground.

OoO

Standing within the crowd gathered around the fallen form of the young teenager who'd passed out on the way out of the airport Trident Shamal abandoned his luggage and bumped his fellow gawkers out of his way. He'd got a good glimpse of the Flight Attendant panicking over the fainted form and swanned forward. A chance to get into the good books of a lady that beautiful? A chance to score a grateful date AND look like a hero? Sold!

"Ok, everyone back up, let me through, I'm a doctor!" He announced as he stepped forward, eyes firmly fixed on the beauty cradling the kid on the floor and the way the light caught of her glossy brown hair. He turned away briefly to shoo away the gawking pedestrians and plastered his best serious look. "Is this any way to act around a lady? Go on, shoo. On your way!" he scolded, making sure the crowd was dispersing before turning back to the flight attendant and catching her gorgeous green eyes. She really was a beauty of the highest class, why had she chosen to be a flight attendant with those looks? She could have easily been a model! Still this was lucky for him, time to brush off the manners he kept in reserve for the beauties of the world, such as this one, and put on his best 'doctor' face.

The woman had cradled the teenager's blond head up against her ample chest with the short skirt of her delicious uniform riding up her leg as she knelt down on her knees to lift the kid up onto her lap. "Doctor! Oh please help, she just passed out! She seemed fine on the way over, she even ate all of her meal! It was only when we were walking out that she collapsed!" she exclaimed, worry lines etching themselves over her lovely face.

"Easy, calm down, no need to worry." Shamal said as he knelt down next to the woman, taking off his jacket and folding it into a pillow. Reaching out his hands to ease the lucky kid out of her arms he smiled charmingly. "You know how kids are these days, with the fad diets they're all on, I'm sure she just passed out from… hunger." He trailed off as he got his first good look at the 'girl' the woman had been cradling against her chest.

Goddamn it, he'd just volunteered himself into treating a boy.

Firmly keeping his grimace on the inside he lay the boy on his back and rested his head against the temporary pillow. Shamal automatically caught the passport that fell out of the 'girl's' pocket and gave it an absent glance, eyebrows hiking up in surprise before he could stop them. A genuine passport. Opening it to the right page under the guise of tucking it back into the kid's pocket he gave it a quick read through. Ok, there was no way this kid owned that particular passport! Forgetting the fact he wasn't _female,_ the boy was clearly at least a good few months older than the birth date listed. This wasn't even a case of gender disassociation. This kid had somehow managed to lift a passport and smuggle himself into Japan with a disguise that so-far no one had even blinked at. Hell, if he hadn't gotten close enough to notice the general build and lack of a chest on this 'girl' he'd have been taken in too.

Hit-man in training?

The kid was all bone, muscle and sinew under all the pink and white, with pale skin that hadn't seen more than a few hours of sunlight at best and oddly sensitized to touch. The blond's skin broke out into goose-bumps at the touch of his hand to his neck when he went to check his pulse and was rubbed almost raw where his, (brand new), clothes had rubbed up against it. New and oddly translucent skin was ashen with exhaustion, tight around the eyes with pain and he'd bet good money on there being darkly bruised circles hiding under all the makeup framing those bloodshot blue eyes that were only now beginning to flutter open.

"Good morning princess!" he greeted cheerfully as the muscles in the kid's body tightened upon awakening. "Sleep well?" he asked as he leaned back, carefully keeping his face neutral and made sure his eyebrows stayed in place when the kid sat up and sharp blue eyes narrowed in his direction before giving his surrounding a quick scan. Being able to move in the condition the kid was in was impressive, he knew adults that had been knocked into coma with the amount of pain the kid had to be in. Hell, half the pain the kid was in would have reduced any of those adults into bawling tears, he was surprised the only sign the kid was showing was a light trembling wracking through his overly thin frame.

The boy was quick to jump to his feet, and proud too given the quick flash of irritated shame that crossed his face as he accepted the hand the flight attendant held out to help him to his feet. "Gosh, I am SO sorry." The blond murmured softly as he steadied himself. "I knew I should have drunk more water earlier, I'm always forgetting to keep myself hydrated." the kid bull-shat easily, ducking his head so that his fringe was falling over his face as he dusting himself down, hiding the way his eyes were scanning the rest of the airport. "I was just so worried about grandpa that I completely forgot!" the blond then tried to giggle but the sound fell flat.

"You should take better care of yourself, Miss Henderson!" the flight attendant scolded, clearly buying into the bullshit. A small bottle of water was pulled out of the woman's carry-on luggage and pressed into his hands. "Here, drink this before you get into the taxi, I'm not letting you out of my sight until I can see the bottom of that bottle!"

The blond drank the bottle down easily enough, using the excuse to get a better look around than he'd gotten under his fringe and finally fixating on the taxis outside even as his focus blurred from the movement. Carefully controlled breathing was the only thing keeping him from passing out there and then. This kid was about half a second away from another collapse and desperate to get away before he passed out again. Desperate enough that a glitter of gold sparked to life in the kid's eyes, invisible to anyone not familiar with the origin of said spark. Dying Will Flames, Sun to be specific. Which was lucky for the kid, any other Flame save Sky would have laid the kid out flat instead of kept him on his feet. Though given the condition he was in he wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, at least not long enough to get further than about two minutes outside the airport.

The airline attendant returned quickly and looked like she was mentally debating whether or not she was going to follow the boy. Yeah, no. That wasn't a great idea. The blond was desperate enough to get away that he was drawing on his Dying Will to accomplish said getaway. Pushing the young maybe-hitman as he was now was just going to put the woman in a world of danger she wouldn't be expecting, especially with the way the blond was already starting to lose focus on the world around him. Goddamn him and his chivalric streak! The first time in a week he'd come across a pretty enough lady to warrant dusting off his manners and the full measure of his charm and he wasn't even going to be able to cash in on the goodwill because he'd found a baby hitman in the process.

Shit. This was just his kind of luck.

"Why don't we share a taxi?" he suggested to the fuzzy-eyed, would-be disaster as he scooped up his discarded jacket and put it back on. He ignored the way the muscles in the kid's body tensed again at the expression on the woman's face, reading her intent just as easily as he had. "You said your grandfather lives nearby, didn't you? That way everyone wins, you get safely to your grandpa's place, Miss Flight Attendant here gets to go back to her job and I'll have company on my way to my hotel, what do you say?" he offered, subtly getting in between the woman and the target of her worry, just in case the now gold-eyed boy decided that the escape he was offering wasn't good enough.

Fuck. Why wasn't the kid passed out already? So stubborn! He'd just offered the perfect out! He was projecting himself at his most harmless! He was even keeping the tightest lid he'd ever held over his own flames outside of a hit! Why wasn't the kid taking him up on his offe…

"…Okay." The boy murmured, one of his hands sliding discreetly under a sleeve to dig nails into his own skin, presumably to sharpen his fading focus. He turned eyes that had to be seeing in double by now onto the Flight Attendant and smiled softly in a manner that was awfully familiar, where had he seen that particular smile? His whole demeanor instantly changed from threatening danger to disarming within seconds. Reborn? No. Reborn wouldn't be able to pull off that look even if he practiced for the next hundred years… where on earth...?

The boy reached forward to grasp the woman's hands with his own gloved hands, (hello forethought), and gave them a reassuring squeeze, that damnably familiar smile easing the worry from the woman's face. Shamal himself might have bought the sincerity pouring from him… had the blond's eyes not still been burning hotly with Sun Flames.

"Thank you for looking after me Karina, I'll be fine now, I promise I'll take a nice long nap when I get home." The kid promised with every pore in his body seemingly dripping with false honesty. He let go of the woman's hands and waved goodbye, likely as not opting out of the traditional bow of the country they were in less he risk a nosedive. The boy turned and left the airport, making a beeline for the waiting taxi and only stopped long enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye as if asking if he was coming or not, one gold eye fixing him in place.

Exactly how long was the kid going to be able to keep this up?

Catching up to him was as simple as stretching his legs a little, even with his luggage slowing him down. Beating the blond to the taxi he couldn't resist holding the door open and waving him in, bowing mockingly as he left his luggage on the sidewalk for the driver to pack into the boot.

"After you, Princess!" he smiled winningly, biting back the smirk that wanted to crawl across his face at the suddenly sour look he was greeted with. Well good, a little payback for ruining his chances with the beautiful Karina before he even got the chance.

The boy's hands balled briefly before apparently remembering he was supposed to be pretending to be a girl. Pert little nose lifted into the air and sniffed delicately in offended dignity, making Shamal wished he could laugh into the kid's face without giving away that he'd caught onto his ruse. This was almost as good as the time he'd caught Bianci playing 'dress up' and 'tea-party' with a poisoned and unwilling Hayato.

The boy breezily ducked into the back seat of the taxi, seated himself down lightly and demurely folded his hands over his lap, pointedly ignoring him like the little princess Shamal had just accused him of being. The kid then sagged back into his seat as his eyes crossed with the effort of keeping himself aware now that he was seated somewhere semi-private and comfortable. Yeah, it wasn't going to be long before he passed out. As strong as that will-power was he'd honestly be surprised if the kid stayed awake long enough to decide where he wanted to be dropped off.

Starvation, long-term. Torture, method unknown. Physical conditioning? Yeah, geared mostly for speed and flexibility. Signs of long-term imprisonment too, no one had skin that pale without being kept somewhere with little to next-to-no natural light. Pain threshold bordering on the unbelievable. Willpower just about the same.

Exactly what was the kid running from that he'd ended up in the condition he was in?

"The closest hotel please." He directed before driver before he could ask where they wanted to go as he slid into his seat, suspecting the reason why the kid hadn't bothered protesting their destination. Yeah. He was out. Like a light. He hadn't even been able to keep his eyes open long enough for him to slide into the seat next to him and was now lying slumped against the car door. Shamal fished his phone out of his pocket, snapped a quick picture and tapped out a short text to Reborn.

'Look what I found! Sunshine here looks almost as good as you do in drag!'

The reply was quick, a one word question that told him that Reborn had caught onto his double meaning.

'Sunshine?'

'Like you wouldn't believe.' He replied back.

'Interesting, find out what he's like without the mask.'

Well damn, he'd just shot himself in the foot. Now he had to keep the kid around until he decided to drop the act. Lovely. Well, maybe he could hasten that up. Make it obvious the jig was up where pretty bystanders weren't in danger of coming into contact with an edgy probable-hitman.

Great.

The boy was so out of it he was as limp as a wet rag by the time Shamal pulled him out of the taxi, having called ahead to the hotel to book a twin room. He tucked the kid in bed, pulled off the kid's shoes and gloves and had a bit of a fridge-logic moment where he hit his head lightly against the wall for a few minutes after getting a good look at the kid's lily-soft hands. No one with hands THAT baby-soft knew how to fight. This kid wasn't a hit-man, in training or not and he'd stuck himself with the brat for the time-being for no real reason.

He irritably pulled his laptop out of his luggage, sat himself at the small round table in the room and booted it up, busying himself with the contacts he had in England so they'd send him any footage of the kid currently snoozing away dead to the world. Three hours later and he had a video file of the kid appearing at the airport via taxi, an idea of where the kid had picked up said taxi and people chasing down security footage of the shopping mall he must have picked up his new passport with the kid himself sitting up in bed disoriented and woozy.

Shamal watched the blond as the kid sat up and tried to kick his fuzzed brain into some semblance of clarity. He bit back a smirk as the blond looked up, settling his features into an easy and teasing grin as the kid stared at him blankly. He looked like he'd forgotten who he was pretending to be for a minute, his now lop-sided pigtails hanging half loose as his hand dove for a pocket, no doubt for a weapon, and freezing halfway when the noisy jangle of bangles around his wrist seemed to remind him of his disguise and jolted him into coming back to himself.

"Good morning again, Princess." he grinned easily, leaning heavily into his own hand, ignoring the aborted movement the kid had just made. "Had a nice nap?" He watched the kid eyes widen in realization and could almost hear the thoughts scrambling around in his head as he processed his situation and come to the decision to keep up with his act.

"Oh my gosh!" the kid exclaimed prettily as he scrambled up out of the blankets he'd been tucked into, using the movement to sweep the room for exits with his eyes. To the single-pane window, with no access to the outside, the half open door to the bathroom, dark with its lack of window and the closed door past the second bed in the room ahead of him, chain hanging limply, seemingly unlocked.

"I am SO sorry! I can't believe I fell asleep like that! Thank you so much for taking care of me!" He gushed as he wobbled to his feet, looking like he wanted to swear a blue streak at the way his legs looked like they wanted to fold right out from under him. "I have to go! I'm so sorry but I need to get to grandpa's house!" he continued as he hooked the sandals Shamal had removed from his feet, sitting down on the bed to put them back on and probably give his legs a bit more time to steady.

Exactly what kind of recovery time was that? Three hours away from drop-dead exhaustion and he was ready to walk again? Sure, the kid would probably crash again in a few hours but the fact that he could even force himself up at the first opportunity really spoke volumes about exactly how high his pain threshold was. Frowning internally, he re-thought his earlier conclusion about the kid not being a hitman, sure the kid had baby-soft hands… but then again so did Reborn. This kid, if he disregarded the lack of scarring and callouses on his hands, acted and reacted like a potential hitman.

"Sure. Grandpa's house. Well if you're sure you're alright…" He trailed off as he motioned to the door. "… I just have one question for you before you leave." he smiled lightly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the passport the kid had used to get into the country. "Where did you get this? It looks pretty real for a fake."

The kid stopped dead on his way past him, blue eyes locking onto the passport he'd just pulled out, silence stretching for a long moment.

"… fake?" the kid asked, voice just as deceptively light as it had been when he'd been talking to the lovely flight attendant at the airport, returning his smile for a disarming one of his own, the same stupidly familiar one that he hadn't been able to recognize yet. "You're so funny, Mister! May I please have that back? I really have to go now." He said, darting out an unbelievably fast hand, making as if to swipe it from him.

Easily holding it out of reach Shamal snorted and mentally started to count down the seconds it would take before the kid ran for it, teasing off the lid he had on his flames in the meanwhile so as not to alert the kid. His mental timer hit zero and the kid bolted, realizing he wasn't going to get the passport back and correctly assuming that his ruse had been discovered after a long minute waiting for him to play along with the act he was putting on.

He had to give it to the kid. He was FAST. Faster than he had any right to be given that he was on the brink of collapse, a real Speedy Gonzales. Cloaking himself invisible, he followed the blond figure that was expertly darting through the crowd, agilely weaving around everyone around him for several blocks even as he turned his head to look behind him several times.

Shamal smirked, didn't seem like the kid could see past Mist Flames. What a pity, he'd have loved to see what this kid was capable of when pushed into a complete corner.

Stumbling onto a shopping mall the blond wobbled in and locked himself in the first available toilet he found. Good. The kid was most likely going to ditch the disguise. Kids were so easy to mess with, all it had taken was for him to poke one hole in the kid's story and here he was, not even a minute later with the kid getting rid of all the work he'd put into his own cover story. Baby hit-men were adorable… unless they had pacifiers. Then they were just plain terrifying. Which was why he was going to this much trouble to 'unmask' the kid.

Reborn had that effect on people.

Pulling out his phone out of his pocket, he readied the camera, set it onto its rapid-fire setting and waited, twisting the illusion around himself to make him appear as just another shopper trying to get reception on his phone. He almost dropped the illusion, and his phone, when the kid finally came out of the bathroom he'd holed himself up in. As it was he almost forgot to take pictures as the kid stepped out into the shopping mall and he realized exactly why the kid's smile had seemed so familiar to him.

He was looking at a prettier, blue eyed, tween version of the Storm Arcobaleno, Fon.

"Mio dio!" he swore as he hastily thumbed through the settings on his phone, attaching the pictures he'd just taken onto the text naming the location and sent it off, looking up just in time to spot the now dark-haired Fon look-alike as he sat himself down in a café to look over a map he'd just pulled out of a pocket.

Shamal sat himself down in the same café and ordered himself a coffee, idly tapping his fingers on the table as he waited for Reborn's reply and wondered what he'd think of the kid's looks. He tried to come up with a medical reason for the strange juxtaposition the kid's smooth and unmarked skin made with his obviously poor physical condition and came up frustratingly blank.

It was surprisingly a lot like trying to think of what would transform seven fully-grown adults into toddler size all at the same time and wasn't that a lovely comparison to make?

* * *

><p>Sitting in one of his newly-built hideouts, watching his student displayed on a television liberated from one of the classrooms and leaning back into the comfort of his custom sized armchair, Reborn quirked an eyebrow at the pictures he'd just been sent and stared for a long minute. Well, that was interesting.<p>

'One of yours?' he texted to the Arcobaleno the teenaged boy in the picture resembled, forwarding the last message and photo he'd just been sent.

'I only have one sister and this is a bit young to be her, the resemblance is uncanny though.' Came the reply.

'It's a boy.' Reborn corrected as he idly took a sip of his coffee and waited for the reply.

'I'm coming to Japan.'

Reborn paused in the middle of his next sip and set his coffee aside. Well, well, hadn't that been a different reaction than what he'd been expecting? Humming thoughtfully he stared down at the last message and tapped out another text, sending this next one to Shamal.

'Something is up, don't lose him and keep me updated. Fon is flying over.'

He smirked as he set his phone aside and picked his coffee back up again. That had been interesting. it had even managed to break the boredom that had set in while watching his newest student try and stumble his way through mathematics.

"Very interesting."

OoO

When he first received the picture Fon's first thought was that his fellow Arcobaleno had merely found a look-alike and had sent him the picture out of curiosity. While that was still most-likely true, the correction Reborn had made changed everything. The child in the picture he'd received was a boy. A boy who looked just like his younger sister and looked to be the same age as his nephew should be? It couldn't be a coincidence, there was barely any doubt in his mind that the boy in the picture was Takeru.

If anyone could make it to the shopping mall in Tokyo in time to catch him, it would be the boy's father. Who else within reach could confirm the identity of the child taken from them eleven years ago? Best keep Yun out of it until they had definite proof that the boy that had been spotted was Takeru and not just a look-alike. He wasn't about to give her false hope until they had something concrete to share with her. At the same time his brother-in-law, a former cop turned private detective in the aftermath of losing his youngest son, was close. Hibari Satoshi had begun his own investigation into the kidnapping of his son almost immediately after it had happened and had started up a, now highly successful, practice in order to both find his son and help other families as affected as his had been.

That Detective Agency couldn't be more than a few blocks away from where that photo had been taken! The decision to send him the picture was a forgone one. It was high time he had a lead on the case that had him creating his Detective Agency in the first place.

'One of my contacts sent me this five minutes ago, he may still be there.' He texted, attaching both the picture and naming the location it had been taken from. 'Good luck. I'm headed to Japan to help with the search.'

OoO

The map of Tokyo was complicated.

Takeru sighed as he located the shopping center he was in and worked his way out as he tried to locate Namimori and orient himself. The magical map he'd bought in Diagon Alley was helpful but he wished he could pull out his scrying crystal and use it, which he wasn't going to be able to do without being somewhere private. Right now, the last thing he wanted to do was to stand out or get into trouble with Japan's Ministry of Magic for being stupid enough to use a magical item in a crowded muggle area. He only really needed to find an isolated spot where he'd be able scry for his family without bringing whatever Japan's equivalent of Britain's Auror's were down on his head. A park or something, maybe an abandoned building? Though given how crowded the city was maybe finding a private spot to pull out his magical things was wishful thinking.

Damn it, was he going to be stuck skulking around bathrooms for the next few days?

Grimacing at the idea and wincing as a twinge arched between his shoulder blades Takeru reconsidered heading straight for Namimori. He couldn't show up at his family's doorstep looking like he was right now, he looked like death warmed over! He needed to see a healer, who knew what kind of damage he'd done to himself by taking that undiluted dispeller potion and then freeing himself from years' worth of enchantments? The backlash his own magic had caused after being released from the binding spells _alone_ would need treatment and as much as he hated the idea of it… he really needed to visit a hospital. Or possibly a healer who wouldn't report him to the ministry?

Which he'd need to break out his scrying crystal for. Awesome, he was thinking in mental circles now.

Wishing he'd researched a little before coming to Japan, he got up from his seat and pushing his chair in as he left. He needed to go find that private spot while he was still conscious, the Pepper-Up he'd taken in the bathroom wasn't going to last for very long and his body was going to make sure he paid for taking it when he was this tired. So. He was going to have to look for a private scrying spot first, scry for a healer and then a place to crash while he decided what his next move was going to be. Slipping into the crowd of shoppers Takeru was almost ready to leave the shopping center when he bumped into a woman carrying an overloaded bag of fruit. Automatically catching a few tangerines as they fell towards him he knelt down to help the poor woman gather the ones that he hadn't managed to catch and noticed one of his new sneaker's shoe laces were coming undone.

"I'm so sorry about that." He apologized as he gestured to his laces, tugging the laces loose to fix it while he talked. "They're new, I've been having a stupidly hard time keeping them knotted!"

"Have you tried double knots?" the woman laughed as she fixed her shopping bags. "They'd hold better."

"Thanks!" he grinned, both at her suggestion and at how easily the language was rolling off his tongue. This was almost nothing like being a parselmouth! For one he was actually thinking AND hearing himself speak in Japanese when he talked, it was going to take some getting used to. The woman steadied her shopping bags and rushed back into the crowd, looking like she was more than ready and willing to continue shopping. Takeru snorted and continued fixing his laces. She was already completely loaded down, how exactly was she going to continue buying more?

Trailing off mid-thought his eyes widened and he ducked down further from where he'd been fixing his shoelace. Standing a few feet from where he'd left the café was the man who'd taken his stolen passport, the same doctor with the eye-catching white suit that he'd run away from just minutes ago. The man was looking around as if trying to spot him. How had the man tracked him down? Takeru scanned the mall for an exit that would get him away from the man while he was still out of sight and felt his stomach drop when he noticed several people pushing their way through the crowd, stopping a few shoppers and showing them pictures but moving purposely through to the café he'd just been sitting in.

Cops. His brief stint as a pick-pocket at the Dursleys _screamed_ at him that these people were cops, the way they moved made them stick out like sore thumbs. Had the guy from the hotel called them? If so, then Takeru had more than overstayed his welcome in the shopping center.

Moving slowly Takeru pulled his jacket off and tied it around his waist, pulled his hair into a rope and tucked it down under his collar. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and carefully stood up, forcing himself to take measured steps to make sure he didn't draw attention to himself, which was what running would do. Brushing past a seated couple he easily stole the man's hat from where it was sitting next to his bag and sunglasses and eased it onto his head even as he kept walking, slipping on the man's sunglasses as well and adopted a typical teenage slouch as he walked away at as fast a pace as he could get away with from the group of advancing cops. He was lucky they hadn't spotted him on their way over and were instead now combing the café. Thank god for shopaholics, if he hadn't bumped into tangerine-lady he'd never have seen them coming!

Using every ounce of skill he'd earned keeping himself from being noticed by the Dursleys at their worst and navigating the halls of Hogwarts unnoticed despite the entire population wanting nothing more than to keep an eye on him, he ghosted out of the shopping center and out into the bright, mid-day sunshine. He power-walked past several shoppers and headed into the first alley-way he could find and climbed up the fire-escape ladder. At least if someone managed to follow him here they wouldn't think to look up, this spot also had the benefit of being camera and bystander free. Perfect. He'd found a place to pull out his wand and scrying crystal without even trying.

Pulling open the pocket of his satchel-turned-leather-bracelet he pulled Quirrell's wand out and resized the bag, fished out his scrying crystal and pulled out the book the shop woman had added to his purchase. Reading quickly through the page on cleansing rituals Takeru quirked an eyebrow, unwound the leather string from the crystal and pulled out the bottle of spring water he'd bought in England. He tipped the contents of the bottle over the crystal and made sure the whole thing was submerged in his palm for a bit. Pure water? Bottled spring water certainly fit the bill. He wondered how purebloods went about finding water that was both pure and untainted with magic… they probably paid through the nose for it too.

Perching his stolen sunglasses up on top of his hat, he flicked his hand free of extra moisture and transferred the crystal to his dry right hand and held it with thumb and forefinger as he dried his left on his pants. The manual said to let the crystal dry naturally, use it when dry and not to spell it that way. Easy. He was just going to speed that up a bit by making sure to free the crystal of any water drops via shaking. Making sure the crystal was about as dry as he was willing to let it get without resorting to magic Takeru tied the crystal back onto the leather string and gave it a few tugs to make sure it was secure. He smoothed his map out on the landing of the fire escape he was currently perched on, tapped his wand on the map so that the Tokyo area was in displayed prominently, cast the spell the shop keeper had told him would place him on the map and watched as a dot similar to the one's he'd seen on the Marauder's Map appeared on the parchment marking his location.

Ok. Now to find himself a healer.

Setting the crystal to swing in circular motions around the map Takeru closed his eyes to concentrate easier and focused his mind on what he wanted. He needed a Healer who could heal him of the strain he was feeling on his magic and the injuries he'd sustained over the years. He needed someone who wouldn't report him to the Ministry of Magic and wouldn't ask questions about how he'd managed to injure himself so thoroughly. Someone who could and would heal him of the damage he'd accumulated over the years of being Dumbledore's puppet.

"Point-me Healer."

Letting the crystal slip out of his fingers he opened his eyes in time to see it land on a specific spot on the parchment, standing on its tip like the one he'd used in Fred and George's shop. Lifting the crystal off the parchment, he marked the spot with a spell that would connect where he was with the location and watched as a set of footprints led from his spot on the fire-escape to where he wanted to go.

He'd been running around like a maniac with no forethought or planning, the urgent need to get to Japan driving him to near-distraction. However, now that he was in the country he needed to be in… he had all the time in the world to figure out how he was going to move forward and prepare. Healing first, then after that he was going to hole himself up in a library and look up Namimori and its surrounding areas for somewhere he could make use of as his base of operations. He was also going to need a nice quiet place to hunker down and go through each and every vial in the Pensieve Catalogues he'd picked up, maybe visit a magical district to pick up a pensieve.

He was going to find his family and scout them out, check out their backgrounds and see if they were the type of people to have been involved in Dumbledore's plan. It might just be paranoia speaking but he was tired of having the floor yanked out from under him, he was done with being surprised. Any manipulations on Dumbledore's part would be obvious, as would any lingering traces of Magic. The news coverage of his kidnapping, if there had been any, would also tell him what he needed to know about the situation. More than anyone else he'd be able to read between the lines of the news reported to find any silvers of truth, if it turned out that his family had been in on his kidnapping...

Well. He'd just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Japan was a big country after all and Namimori was just one small part of it, if he found out the worst, he'd just leave. He had a vault full of gold to waste away and a lifetime of freedom ahead of him.

Takeru tucked the scrying crystal back into his pocket, secured Quirrell's wand in the holster he pulled out of his satchel and resized his bag back to its bracelet form with his invisibility cloak tucked under his arm. Picking up his map he allowed himself to drop back down to street level and swung the cloak around his shoulders, orienting himself until he knew which direction to walk in.

The healer wasn't too far away, he should be able to walk the distance without too much trouble even with having to duck around everyone walking around him.

* * *

><p>"No. Check again, he has to be here somewhere!"<p>

"But sir, we've checked every area and exit, he's nowhere to be fou…"

"Then talk to security! See if you can get the footage of the last few hours, I don't care what you have to promise them just get it, he was here! He was right here and I don't want to hear that we might have missed him!" Hibari Satoshi grit out, palming his forehead. The first concrete clue he'd ever gotten onto the whereabouts and health of his youngest son and… he'd squandered it.

Looking down at the printed out picture in his hand the man carefully smoothed out the wrinkles and traced a trembling hand over the surface of the picture. If this was his son, and he could hardly deny the resemblance to his wife, then… he had something to work off of. He'd BEEN here, he'd talked to people, he'd sat himself down here. This was a starting point to an investigation that he'd so far been working on in the dark.

For the first time in eleven years… he had some hope.

Hibari Takeru was alive.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd like to give a warm and loving shout out to Araciel and Levynite for giving me the confidence to start writing fanfiction again and for the warm and welcoming support i got from my viewers over at Ao3. Thank you for your support! I would also like to ask people to keep an eye out for anyone copying my fanfiction and claiming my work as theirs. <strong>

**Under Wing was originally Araciel's plot bunny which i kidnapped (WITH PERMISSION) and a lot of the credit goes to her for the idea of this fic and a good lion's share of Dobby's words. XD Go read every story Araciel has ever written, she's my fave~! XDD**


	7. Chapter 7

The map led him on a rather direct route past several tall sky-rise buildings and after walking himself several blocks away from the shopping mall he'd ditched his disguise in he ducked into another alley-way and pocketed his invisibility cloak, confident that he wouldn't need it. He knew he was starting to get close to his destination when he felt the unmistakable brush of magic brush up against his senses and followed his instincts, letting his feet guide him rather than rely on the map in his hand when the feeling got strong enough. Sure enough he found himself stopping in front of a beautiful traditional-looking Japanese house, like the one's he'd seen in the few books he'd looked at in the library in Britain.

Checking the map to make sure he had the right place he cast his eyes around and let his hand hover just off the surface of the wooden fence, feeling the strength of the wards rise off it like heat. These wards had to be almost as strong as the ones that surrounded Hogwarts… no. These felt stronger. Whistling softly under his breath, impressed despite himself Takeru fought with indecision for a minute. He looked the house up and down while he tried to work himself up into walking through the rather potent wards.

The decision was made for him when the world around him tilted for a bit and he was forced to reach a hand out to steady himself against the ward-post that acted as a gateway to the house. He had just enough time to admire the pretty crescent moon decorating the top before he was caught up in the wards and found his feet marching him forward. Well that was one way to make sure you got visitors.

Rather than strain himself fighting against the spells Takeru let himself move forward, willingly stepping up onto the steps of the house when he reached them and relaxing when the spells let him go. The air around here felt unbelievably pure, light and relaxing. The wards themselves didn't feel even in the slightest bit malicious, it was almost like someone had cast a dance-less version of Tallentellegra on him. He could have pulled himself free of it anytime he wanted but he'd appreciated the help he'd gotten putting one foot in front of the other, the dizziness that had him fall prey to the wards in the first place didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon.

Besides which this was the place he'd scried for, a Healer who wouldn't report him to the Ministry of Magic. He was going to have to trust this person if he was ever going to get the healing he needed.

The doors opened before he reached them and suddenly two young girls launched themselves at him, squealing in delight, burrowing into either side of him and throwing their thin arms around him. Somehow managing to keep his feet, Takeru blinked down at the two girls currently cuddled up to him. A blue haired girl with long curly blue hair pulled up into pigtails and a pink haired girl with straight pink shoulder-length hair. He started to wonder if it had been such a good idea to come here when he felt the hair on his arms start to stand on end.

"Welcome~!" they chorused as they pulled him further into the house, somehow managing to lead him in without tripping over themselves or him as they kept a tight hold on him. "We will take you to our Mistress." The blue haired one said, peering up at him with curiously blank eyes. "Yes…" The pink haired girl continued, giggling around her hand. "A customer for Mistress~!"

The house was just as beautiful on the inside as it had been on the outside, all polished wood and sliding panels of what seemed to be screens made out of paper. The crescent moon theme continued on throughout the house and it gave the house an ethereal feel to it that matched the sweet incense tickling his nose. The two girls half-dragged and half walked him to a pair of sliding doors decorated with yet another crescent moon. They let him go and waited till he stopped weaving so that they could pull at a door handle each and slide open the doors.

"Welcome to my shop." A voice greeted him as the doors slid open.

A stunningly gorgeous woman with long, straight dark hair was draped across a fainting lounge. Incense twined around her to curl with the smoke coming from the pipe she was smoking, her elaborate red and gold flowered Japanese dress hanging loosely from her form. Lidded red eyes watched him from under thick lashes and an indolent smirk played lazily across her lips. Was this the healer he'd scried for?

"Your shop?" he asked tentatively as he sat down in the chair the two girls brought over to him, gingerly sitting at the very edge of his seat. The red eyes of this would-be healer setting him on edge.

"Mmm." The woman agreed, taking a long draw from the pipe in her hand and tipping her head back lazily to breathe out the smoke in one long stream, hanging almost upside down off the lounge. She didn't bother straightening up as she regarded him, her bright red eyes looking him up and down as she languidly tipped her head back. "A shop that grants wishes." She replied airily as she kicked her feet up onto the back of the lounge. "Any wish can be granted, as long as you pay the price."

"Granting wishes!"

"As long as the Mistress can do it!"

Takeru jumped a little as the two young girls spoke up, having not realized they were still in the room and squashed down his reflexive urge to go for his wand. There was something about these two that was making the hair on his arms stand on end…

"They have no soul."

Takeru was up out of his seat and half way to plastering himself up against a wall at the woman's matter-of-fact words. The wand that he'd been stopping himself from going for was suddenly in his hands with a shield spell ready to leave his lips. The only thing that stopped him was the look on the woman's face as she levered herself up off the lounge, a satisfied and catty smirk curling up across her features at his reaction. She propped herself up on the arm rest and draped along it, folding her arms under her chin and looked up at him in vast amusement, tapping her pipe against the lounge.

"By the way their names are Marudashi and Morodashi, Maru and Moro for short, aren't they cute?"

Slapping a hand to his mouth to smother the involuntary start of laughter that wanted to escape him as his mind automatically translated their full names into 'Streaker' and 'Flasher' respectively, Takeru felt himself relax almost involuntarily as he realized exactly what she was doing. She was trying to find out more about him and instead of outright asking she was poking at him to see what kind of reaction she'd get. She'd already managed to figure out he was a wizard with the way he'd reacted to her information drop about the two girls just now.

That had to have been the most Slytherin tactic he'd ever seen employed outside of Hogwarts and… it didn't bother him. Her matter-of-fact way of dropping the truth onto his lap just to see what he'd do with it was actually putting him at ease, anything else would have had him running right back out the doors. Her attitude… was actually kind of refreshing, she was actually trying to figure out what made him tick instead of just outright assuming…

"Do you treat all your customers like this?" He asked tartly as he put his wand away and retook his seat.

"Only the very special ones." She purred, leaning forward out of her chair to reach out a hand and tip his chin up, smoothing a thumb across his cheek and staring intently into his eyes with her own ruby red ones as she did so. She was trying to further unnerve him by leaning this far into his personal space. It wasn't going to work. He had her measure now and if he'd learned anything from Hogwarts it was never to back down from a Slytherin, they'd never leave you alone afterwards. Exhibit A? Draco Malfoy.

Darting out a quick hand of his own he deftly tilted her chin down so that she was facing away from him and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. If she had been hoping to wig him out by getting this far into his personal bubble she was in for a surprise.

"Thank you for the compliment." He grinned in reply to the look of surprise that crossed her face and leaned back into his own chair, taking his behavioral cue from her and crossing one leg over the other while he was at it. "Now you were saying something about wishes and their price?" he asked, knowing he'd just won the little game she'd started when she tipped her head back and laughed loudly at the way he'd successfully derailed her attempts to keep their interactions running in her favor.

"You're adorable." She told him around a cheshire grin as she relaxed back into the fainting lounge she had half gotten up out of to tease him and crossed one of her legs over the other, draping herself back against the lounge. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you find my store?" the woman asked lightly, taking a languid draw from her pipe and sending the smoke up into butterfly shaped spirals above her head.

"Map and a scrying crystal." He answered easily enough, showing her the map he had yet to put back into his pocket and the crystal, handing both over to her when she held out a questioning hand. She gave his map a cursory look at and handed it back while weighing his scrying crystal in her hand, staring down at it as if she was trying to see exactly what use he'd put it to.

"I asked for a Healer." He said before she could ask. "One that would be able to heal me of the magical strain I'm suffering from and the injuries I've suffered over the years. Someone who wouldn't ask me questions as to how I got into this condition or report me to the Ministry Of Magic."

"The Ministry of Magic." The woman snorted dismissively as she handed him back his crystal. "Well you've certainly come to the right place if you were looking for all that…" she stopped for a bit as if realizing something and laughed again. "Ah this is priceless, a boy with a simple wish, a map and a scrying crystal succeeding where they failed!" she chortled, "I really do love fate sometimes!"

"Failed~!" the blue haired girl cheered from where she was standing behind him.

"Failed~!" the pink haired girl repeated, bouncing from behind him and latching her hands around his shoulders to giggled into his hair.

Takeru laughed with her but his amusement was short lived. A spasm of pain had him curling forward over himself and the world tilted again. Gentle hands prevented him from falling out of his chair and carefully pried his own away from where they'd curled over his mid-section.

"Tell me your wish." The woman asked, her deceptively strong hands preventing him from falling out of his chair.

"Healing…. I wish… to be healed… and for you… to keep everything… you learn from me… while healing me… a secret." He coughed out around his tight throat. "Don't report me to the Ministry of Magic." He finished painfully, straightening up as the wave of pain began to recede and sitting up when his vision began to stabilize.

"Payment for this wish will be your hair." The woman replied almost as soon as he finished verbalizing his wish, business-like and professional. "Black hair untouched by more than three days of sunlight for longer than ten years and saturated with that much magic… it's a wonder you weren't jumped on your way here, you're walking around with a king's ransom on your head."

Takeru grimaced at her price, he knew exactly what could be done with just a single strand of a wizard's hair and parting with the amount of hair she seemed to be suggesting would put him in danger of landing in a situation almost exactly like the one he'd escaped. If she wanted to she'd be able to turn him into her living puppet, but… the way she'd described his hair made it seem like she wanted it just for its inherent properties.

"I'll agree to the price only if it's never used against me." He said, looking up into the woman's eyes.

"DEAL~!" the woman squealed, abandoning her Slytherin-like composure and scooping him up out of the chair to settle him down onto the fainting lounge she'd just been lounging on. "Maru! Go Get me the barbers kit from the storage room!" she ordered, pointing a hand out dramatically in one direction and then pointing her other hand in the other. "Moro go get the bathroom ready! We have a wish to grant!"

* * *

><p>The bathroom he was chivvied into was large and the bathtub was already full with steaming hot water tinged a pearly pink with some unnamed potion. He dipped a hand in before he got in and almost melted against the side of the tub. The pain relief was almost immediate, at least the surface pain, his skin tingled pleasantly as the potion washed over it, soothing the areas his clothes had rubbed harshly against. He wasted no time getting in.<p>

Ducking completely under the water as he'd been instructed to do he waited for a count of ten seconds, surfaced for five and ducked back under. He repeated this process for a good ten times and another for good measure, making sure that the potion that had been poured into the water washed over every bit of his skin. He watched his arm in near-morbid fascination as his near-transparent skin firmed, thickened and darkened to a healthy shade of pink. He was still pale, but now he was no longer the near paper-white pale he'd been mere minutes ago. The mild sun-burn he'd gained during these last few days healed within an instant and he could no longer see veins through his skin.

He was contemplating the merits of taking a sip of the sweet scented bath-water to see if it would soothe the ache he was feeling on the inside when the woman with the red eyes sailed in with her assistants.

"Gah!" he exclaimed, plastering himself to the edge of the bathtub in an attempt at modesty. "Would you at least knock?" he yelped as he cast his eyes about for something to cover himself up with, blinking at the pink haired girl when she handed him the large towel she'd carried into the room and hastily holding it up between himself and his audience.

"As if you have anything I haven't seen before." The woman smirked as she picked up a piece of cloth from the pile of the blue haired girl had carried into the room and tossed it in his direction. "No drinking the bathwater!" she tutted at him, hands on her hips. "Get dry and dressed, we're got work to do!"

Flushing a little Takeru caught the cloth she tossed at him and snorted. Boxers. Butterfly patterned boxers with the butterflies charmed to flap randomly across the fabric. Giving her retreating back a dry look he waited for the girls to leave but was instead left staring into their impassive blue and pink eyes respectively. "Can you at least turn around if you're going to wait for me to change?" he asked with a huff.

"Ha ha! He's shy!"

"Shy, shy~!"

"Yes, yes. I'm shy, just turn around!" he snapped, nearly jumping up out of the tub when they complied. He only just managed to step into the underwear and half-wrap the towel around his waist when the girls turned around again without warning.

"Hey!" he complained as he struggled to escape their grip. "What are you doi.. mrph!" his mouth was suddenly muffled as a robe was flung in his face. A minute of struggling later and Takeru was somehow dressed in something closely resembling his healer's dress, only deep blue and patterned with gold and purple butterflies instead of flowers with the cream coloured sash across his waist patterned with more of them.

The only reason he didn't complain or resist beyond the initial struggle was the warmth that began to seep into his bones the second his arms cleared the sleeves, easing the edge off the pain. Melting onto a wooden stool when he was pushed onto it Takeru let the soulless girls drape another towel around his shoulders so they could de-tangle the wet mess his hair had become, eyes lidding at the feel of small fingers threading through the strands and over his scalp. At that moment he didn't care that they were probably pulling it up into a girl's hair-style or that he was currently dressed like a girl. As long as that bone-melting heat persisted and they kept up with the head massage they were giving him as they rubbed whatever concoctions they were smoothing into his hair they could do whatever the hell they wanted with him!

Weaving drunkenly to his feet when the girls pulled him up out of his temporary seat Takeru leaned heavily on the girls who wrapped themselves around his waist and let them lead him from the room, noting absently that they had put his feet into a pair of oddly split-toed white socks and a pair of fluffy pink slippers. He gave his reflection a quick look in the mirror as they left the bathroom and couldn't help sighing at it, the girls had pulled his hair up into ponytail and had attached several small ornamental butterflies to the ribbon.

The robes he could understand, he felt the effects it had on him the second he put it on but the accessories probably weren't all that necessary, the charms on them were very subtle. His healer was certainly getting a kick out of dressing him in girl's clothes. She probably had a boy's set of healing robes and accessories somewhere but had chosen the girl's one for whatever reason. Probably personal amusement given her Slytherin attitude.

Whatever, he didn't care. It felt too good to complain about it and it wasn't like he was going out into public like this.

The girls led him to a screen door that opened up to reveal a small room, three walls set with tall stained-glass windows, the tinted light coming in the room painting everything in a multiple array of colors. His healer was waiting for him at the circular table, steaming cup of tea in front of her and an empty cup and saucer set up for him in the only other chair with Shuu chirping up a storm in the woman's hands. The pygmy puff abandoned his healer at the sight of him coming in the doors and bounced up out of her hands, Takeru caught him out of the air and smoothed a hand over him. "Hello sleepy-head, it's about time you woke up." Shuu pressed up against his thumb and chirred, a strong purring starting up when he curled his fingers into his warm fur to give the little thing a scratch.

"All babies need their sleep." The woman grinned from where she was watching the reunion, head resting on one hand with the other holding her tea up for a sip. "And he's still very young yet."

Takeru smiled at that. "He is, you should have seen his mother, she was at least four times his size." He said, gesturing at the size with his hands. "I tried to get him to stay with her but he got hold of my sleeve and wouldn't let go until I said I'd keep him."

"He may be young but that doesn't make his choice any less decisive. He knew exactly what he wanted and went for it, that kind of honesty is amazing for something so small isn't it?" she asked and Takeru nodded, feeling a giddy curl of affection bubble up inside him at the idea, he hadn't thought about it quite like that. Slipping into the only chair left at the table Takeru boosted Shuu up onto his shoulder to free his hands and reached for the cup and saucer, jumping a little in his seat when the blue haired girl appeared to pour him some tea.

"You have something in your possession I'm going to need if I'm going to heal you properly." The woman said as she took a sip of her own tea. "Something in that bag of yours."

Takeru quirked an eyebrow and reached for his wrist, belatedly remembering that he'd left the satchel in the bathroom after pulling it off before his bath. He made as if to get up and get it when the pink haired girl appeared at his elbow, depositing the item onto the table for him.

"Um… thank you." He said awkwardly, accepting the wand he'd also left in the bathroom from her when she handed it over. Tapping it so that it returned to its proper size he paused for a minute before reaching inside, trying to think of what she would need from inside the bag that she would need to help him heal before realizing. The Pensieve Catalogs. Both of them.

Placing the two near-identical boxes on the table in front of him with a shaking hand Takeru looked up at her serious red eyes and bit his lip. "Is this what you meant?"

"Memories." The woman murmured, identifying the contents of the boxes without touching them. "Only a fraction of which truly belong to you." The woman placed her cup back onto its saucer and pushed it away, seemingly no longer interested in drinking it. She opened the unmarked rolodex first, the one Dobby had picked up, and started fishing out vials of memories with ease that spoke of experience. It wasn't long before the table was littered with glowing vials, her assistants came into the room with a basket for her to put the memories into and he watched as they piled the vials already on the table into it, putting the basket on the table for his healer to continue filling up.

Leaning back awkwardly Takeru picked up his teacup and took a sip of his tea, shutting his eyes briefly and swaying on the spot as the liquid seemed to spread out inside him, sending tendrils of warmth throughout him and slowly easing at his aches. That… had felt really good. Draining his cup and eagerly holding it out to the blue haired girl for another and barely waited for the liquid to settle in his cup before he drunk that one down too. Who would have thought you could make a potion that tasted like tea? If all of his potions had tasted like this maybe he wouldn't have hated getting landed in the hospital wing all those times.

Taking a moment to bite into a cookie that had been placed on a plate in front of him he waited for a moment to see if it too was going to have an effect on him but other than being the best cookie he'd ever had it did nothing. It was a regular cookie. He went back to his tea.

"I'm going to assume you have implanted memories." The woman said as she pushed away the first box and reached for the marked one he had pulled out of Dumbledore's trunk. "No one pulls this many memories without modifying the ones left behind." She remarked as she started unloading memories into the seemingly bottomless basket in front of her. "Can you think of any memories that could be outright implanted?" she asked, looking up at him briefly.

"I… yes, I think I do." He replied, pausing mid-sip as he pondered the question. "I'm pretty sure I shouldn't know English as well as I do… oh and I willingly accepted the memories for Japanese. There are people I associate as family which I shouldn't and… memories of certain events were modified, that much I know. Before I got here I reabsorbed a few of the stolen memories but it's kind of obvious now that I missed more than a few." He remarked, eying the basket she was still filling.

"You're really making me earn my payment aren't you?" The woman smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "Do you want to keep the languages?" she asked.

"I'd honestly be pretty lost without them." Takeru replied. "I'm pretty sure English wasn't my first language and I have no idea if I could speak any other language before that."

The woman nodded and returned her attention back to the Pensieve catalog, fishing out the remaining memories and pushing the boxes back towards him when she was done fishing memories out. Storing them back into his satchel Takeru was given enough time to stash Quirrell's wand away and secure the bag back around his wrist when he was unceremoniously pulled out of his chair by the two little soulless girls to be dragged back out of the room.

The movement had him weaving dizzily and the girls somehow managed to manhandle him into a new room and half out of the dress thing he'd been forced into before he could even figure out what was happening. The outer layer of his dress was taken away and replaced with something a little more easy to move in and he was pushed into a soft bed. An airy four poster with sheer bed curtains decorated with, again, more butterflies.

The wave of healing magic that hit him as soon as the girls closed the sheer bed curtains and his healer's face was the last thing he saw before the waking world slipped away from him as she rested a cool palm over his eyes.

* * *

><p>Takeru nearly choked when he found himself standing in the ruins of what seemed to be in Hogwart's Great Hall. His heart gave a sudden, painful jolt and he stepped backwards, a cold sweat breaking out all over him as he took in the familiar-yet-not-familiar place and almost tripped backwards over a Gryffindor pennant at the sight. The hall looked like it had been destroyed mid-way through an end of year feast celebrating Gryffindor's victory in having gained the House Cup. Tables and benches were upturned and broken, the red and gold decorations had been ripped from the walls and were now discarded on the floor.<p>

Blue-silver chains of light lay limply on the floor, having seemingly been cut from the walls they'd been anchored to with pieces still attached to the walls. Great cracks lined the walls where the chains had broken away from the wall and the stone tiles of the hall were likewise littered with cracks. The Head Table was split down the middle and draped with broken chains, the Headmaster's chair had been likewise split in half and a good half of its backrest had been reduced to splinters. When he looked up, instead of seeing the weather he instead saw a great rune carved into what looked like a glass ceiling. Isa again, the rune that governed self-identity. Behind the glass ceiling was an incandescent heat, burning brightly gold and glittering, somehow managing not to blind him but instead casting a bright light across the entire hall.

"Well someone has certainly made a mess in here."

Takeru jerked violently and turned around, eyes immediately latching onto the large red and gold butterfly as it trailed gracefully into the room and took a hesitant step backwards when it touched onto the floor and transformed into his red-eyed healer in a swirl of violet magic. She stepped forward, reached into the folds of her red and gold dress and pulled out a staff that grew until it was taller than she was, stamping the butt of it to the floor. Immediately a large circle of light appeared at her feet, filling with runic symbols and some characters he vaguely recognized as something closely related to Japanese. Several balls of golden light started to appear in the air around her and light flared from her staff to wash forwards in all directions around them.

Everything around them melted away. The broken remains of the Great Hall, the walls and broken chains were washed away like the light had bulldozed Hogwarts to the ground. Takeru was left gaping as he and his healer were left standing in the center of a seemingly free and endlessly open grassland replaced it, the tall grass swaying in an invisible breeze.

"Much better." His healer grinned as she looked around, casually leaning on her staff and looking up at the gorgeous blue sky, a gentle wind setting her hair and clothes to swaying. "Now that we've wiped clean all the spells... let's return your memories hmm?"

Straightening up from her casual stance his healer tapped her staff against the grass and the balls of golden light that had appeared around her, fluttering around her with unformed wings, grew bigger. The circle of light around her feet glowed again and the balls of light brightened and burst when she lifted her staff sharply upwards.

A flock of birds took flight.

Takeru gasped as flew off into the air and followed them with his eyes, the memories they represented flashing behind his eyes as they flew past him. Memories of a mother. Hibari Yun. Singing lullabies and the scent of her perfume. Memories of a father. Hibari Satoshi. A warm and large presence always ready and waiting with hugs. Two uncles, one tall and warm like his father. Hibari Minoru. Another uncle around the same size as himself. Fon. An older brother who was all huff and gruff on the outside but just as warm as everyone else in the family. Kyoya. The nicknames Hedgehog and Potato. Learning how to use chopsticks. Getting forced into fancy kimono for a festival and all the tourists taking pictures of him. His brother giving him a goldfish. Naming said goldfish Gojiramaru.

Getting kidnapped. Furiously fighting against the people who had him and getting nowhere. Passed from person to person like so much luggage. Days upon days of terror, uncertainty, tears and screaming. Stranger after stranger moving him from place to place. Two faces that were only NOW familiar to him as Mundungus Fletcher and Dumbledore. Dumbledore's kind words and act at the beginning, the promise of return to his family if only he answered a few questions. The old man's Japanese sounding strangely stilted. Fear returning when the old man raised what he now recognized as a wand towards him.

Three glorious days spent in the lap of luxury at Mrs Figs place. Not being baby sat by her but very much the center of attention as a kitten she'd found wandering around after a magical outburst. Ear rubs, cat nip, long naps in the sun and hours spent chasing and playing with her other cats before being discovered by who he now recognized as Dumbledore. A long chase. A haggard and wheezing Dumbledore raising his wand at him.

Learning how to survive in London on his own at a very young age after Vernon 'forgot' him there once. Picking up how to pick locks, pockets and how to find the best sleeping places from a girl years older than him. Spending time learning how to run and climb up and over things in ways that had anyone chasing after them cursing. Two weeks of freedom shattered when a highly irritated Dumbledore cornered him in an alleyway. Managing to belt him one in the fork of the legs just like the girl who had taught him to pick pockets had shown him.

Chased back into the school one day when everyone was headed home by a man dressed in a hoodie and jeans and dragged into an empty classroom. Slamming craft scissors into the man's crotch and then down into his foot when the man howled and let him go. Lifting the lid of a nearby desk and slamming it up into the man's face and laying him out cold. Police later two parts wincing and one part awe over his viciousness and his short handling of the situation. Dumbledore arriving to talk to the police and then him. Keeping a healthy distance between them as he pulls his wand out.

Jury-rigging one of Dudley's old bb-guns and loading it with gravel. Successfully managing to hide it from the Dursleys and his teachers under his overly large shirt. Using it to snipe at Dudley and his gang from the cover of a tree during recess and lunch. Accidentally shooting Mrs Fig on her way home from the supermarket after school when his targets ran past her for cover. Dumbledore spelling him out of the tree in broad daylight.

More memories swept past and through him and eventually the memories settled down from their whirling flight around him to fly lazily in the sky above him. Takeru shaded his eyes and called one of them forward and felt something warm inside him when one fluttered down to land on his outstretched hand. The birds the memories had formed into had become Skylarks. Light flared again turning his attention back to his healer and the memory on his hand flitted back up into the sky, seemingly startled back into flight.

A butterfly formed out of the twining violet magic that came out of the woman's staff and flew towards him. Holding out the hand the memory-bird had just been sitting on Takeru let it land and blinked in surprise as transformed right in front of his eyes. Suddenly the butterfly had changed into another Skylark, the only thing marking it as different from the others was its bright purple plumage.

"What's this?" Takeru asked warily as he cupped his hands around the small bird, lifting it to eye level before looking at his healer for answers.

"Merely another part of our deal. An exchange of knowledge, from me to you. I have returned your memories to you, but they will do more harm than good without the knowledge of how to sort, store, and call upon them. You are familiar with the flash-backs sufferers of Post-Traumatic stress experience? Without proper review and handling, each new sensation, sound, scent, could very well trigger one such flashback from any one of these memories, be they pleasant... or violent. I have given you my knowledge on how to handle the mind arts. I believe your western magic practitioners call it 'Occulmency'."

Takeru stared blankly at her for a long moment, the little purple bird sitting comfortably warm in his hands. Was it really that easy? Could Dumbledore and Snape have done something like this? Simply copy their knowledge instead of putting him through… ok no. He wasn't going to allow himself down that mental path. If he started he wasn't going to stop. Dumbledore and Snape were his past now, a memory. It would do him no good to think of what if's and could-have-been. Besides which, as easy as his healer made it look there had to be more than a bit of skill to have done so much to heal him in so little time.

His healer smirked as if she could tell what he was thinking, given that they were in his mind that could very well be a possibility, and leaned forwards onto her staff again. "Now… I've 'reset' your mental defenses so you shouldn't have any problems as far as flash-backs go. You seem to have an intuitive grasp on how to call and dismiss memories to you so it shouldn't be too hard to build up from here. As long as you work on it." The woman grinned, gesturing to the bird in his hand. "You can call it a job done when his plumage matches the rest."

"… what should I build here?" Takeru asked in bewilderment, staring out across the wide open space and the long fronds of wild grass.

"Whatever you want." His healer answered with yet another easy grin. "Build another castle, make a forest grow, populate a city with your birds, the options are literally limitless and the choice is all yours. You don't even have to do it all at once, Rome wasn't built in a day after all. Come back and create something new every day, call to your memories and play around. Do whatever feels natural to you, trust your instincts in what feels right and wrong and you might surprise yourself." The woman finished, allowing her staff to shrink and stowing it back in the sleeve of her dress. Kimono, his mind corrected as she changed back into the red and gold butterfly she'd been when she first appeared.

Takeru watched her leave and looked down at the little bird still sitting docile in his hands. "Create something…" he muttered to himself as he transferred the little bird sitting in his cupped hands to a shoulder. "Well… no time like the present…"

OoO

Takeru eyes opened up to a darkened room with the bed, pillows, blankets and bed curtains glowing in a dusty silver that gently washed over him. He woke up feeling like a world of weight, and pain, had lifted off his shoulders. It was a heady feeling, one that he partially skeptical about. Sitting up in the bed without so much as a twinge he held up a hand to catch at one of the glowing motes of light drifting off the bedclothes and watched in fascination as it landed on his palm. It held its shape for a few seconds before sinking in to be absorbed by his skin.

The world felt different than before he'd been pushed into bed to have his mind sorted out, he felt more level headed and relaxed, more grounded than he'd felt beforehand. Which was ironic given the bird-like form his memories had taken and the field of perches he'd left behind, it was a crude start but it was about all he could think of at the moment. The memory his healer had given him was set on a perch he'd made and after creating that one it… had seemed kind of selfish not to give the other birds wheeling around the sky somewhere to sit. He was sure he'd go back and change it to something else when he got a better idea of what shape he wanted his mind to take but for now just keeping his memories from flying off felt like an accomplishment. He'd taken a moment to examine his purple Skylark for any changes in colour but no such luck. No change. Looked like he was a long way away from making that particular memory truly his own.

Pushing aside the glowing bed curtains Takeru allowed himself to slip out of bed and blinked at how strong he felt just getting to his feet. He felt steady, no longer dizzy in any way and no longer in any pain. Instead he felt good. Really good. Good enough that he felt like he could go all the way through a Wood-inspired Quidditch warm-up without feeling like death warmed over. He also felt…

Extremely hungry.

Hearing his stomach growl Takeru grimaced and slipped his feet into the pair of slippers that had been left beside the bed and reached for the door, taking a startled step backwards when it was flung open before he could reach it and the two soulless girls who had been man-handling him the entire time he'd been here burst into the room.

"Hey! A little warning next time?" he complained as he pressed a hand over his heart to calm himself down. "I nearly had a heart attack!"

"Dinner time~!" Moro cheered as she jumped on him to wrestle at his clothes.

"Dinner time! Dinner time!" Maru repeated as she plastered herself up against his back and forcibly changed him out of the sleeping robe he'd been dressed in.

He was wrestled out of the sleeping ro-Kimono he'd been dressed in and back into the overly elaborate one decorated in butterflies he'd been wearing earlier. His hair was fussed with and eventually sorted back into the long ponytail it had slipped out of while he'd been asleep. He was then pushed out of the room with the girls firmly plastered up against his sides, again somehow keeping him and themselves from tripping over into a tangled mess. Giving up on fighting them, (the girls were a lot stronger than they looked!), he allowed himself to lean back into Maru when Moro left him for a bit to open one of the sliding doors that led further into the house.

The room he was led into had soft springy mats, his healer was sitting at a small table in the center of the room and the back opened up to the front yard and a large balcony he hadn't noticed on his way in. The small table was set up for four people, empty plates, cups and saucers waiting for food. The girls sat him down on a red and purple cushion patterned with more butterflies and flounced out of the room, leaving him alone with the healer.

"Um… I thought they were going to eat with us?" Takeru floundered as he fiddled with the edges of his sleeves.

"Oh they don't need to eat." She replied with a smirk, leaning on a short arm rest and reaching down next to her to pick up the pipe she'd been smoking when they first met. "We're waiting on a few others… and the food."

He was hungry, he hoped the food they were waiting on would come soon, he felt like he was hungrier than he'd felt in a good long while. Looking down at the collection tableware in front of him he blinked at the chopsticks, expecting to see a fork and knife and instead finding something completely different. Reaching forward to pick them up and try to hold them in the way they were supposed to be held he managed to awkwardly fit his hand around them when a door slammed somewhere in the house and an irritated teenage voice yelled an unfamiliar name.

"Yuuko-san!" the irritated voice called out loudly into the house. "Where are you! I got everything you asked for even though you sent me out in the rain for something as asinine as clothes! Do you know the dodgy looks I got from the sales clerk lady when she rang up the little boys clothes and underwear? Why did you send DOUMEKI out to bother me with all this! I could have spent the afternoon with Himawari-chan!"

A stomping set of feet sounded in the house, seemingly the person searching room to room for his healer, who he realized must be the Yuuko he was looking for.

"My assistant." Yuuko smirked. "He's quite fun when you get him worked up~!"

Takeru laughed a little at that, it seemed like customers weren't the only people she sharpened her Slytherin attitude on. The poor guy, with a personality like that… no wonder he sounded so close to frothing at the mouth, she probably loved prodding exactly that kind of reaction out of him on a daily basis.

"I want a cheese soufflé." A deeper voice remarked as the footsteps got closer to the room they were in.

"DOES THIS LOOK LIKE IT WOULD HOLD A SOUFFLE? NO! NO IT DOES NOT! OF COURSE I DIDN'T MAKE A SOUFFLE! IF YOU WANT ONE GO MAKE IT YOURSELF!" The same voice as the one calling for Yuuko shrieked. "This is a BENTO BOX! It's full of Japanese food! NOT WESTERN FOOD! Japanese food I spent almost ALL AFTERNOON MAKING SO YOU HAD BETTER APPRECIATE IT!"

"Mokona wants cheese soufflé too!" a childish voice piped up.

"WELL THEN MOKONA CAN SUFFER TOO! YOU CAN EAT THIS OR GO HUNGRY FOR ALL I CA- YUUKO-SAN WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE BATHROOM?" the voice shrieked again. "AT LEAST HANG UP THE TOWELS AFTER YOU USED THEM OR THROW THEM IN THE HAMPER! WHAT IS THIS PINK STUFF? COULDN'T YOU HAVE AT LEAST MOPPED THE FLOOR?"

Takeru jerked guiltily at that and made to get up only for Yuuko to reach out and push him back down. "Calm down, it's his job to clean up around here~! If I didn't give him anything to do he'd waste away trying to find something to complain about. He thrives on the mess, he actually loves cleaning but acts otherwise. Watch him for a bit when he comes in and see for yourself." The woman advised as she eased back into a lounging position, picking up a half-empty bottle of alcohol from nearby and pouring herself a glass. She placed the bottle in clear view on the small table, leaned back on her arm-rest, adopted the same half-lidded look she'd been wearing when he met her and waited… seemingly for the door to open.

Was she hoping the guy currently stomping in their direction would think she was 'Drinking on the job?'. Muffling a laugh behind his hand Takeru put the chopsticks he'd been holding back down on the table and waited for the explosion to happen. Her assistant sounded like a real fire-cracker, quick to temper and even quicker to explode. People like that were always fun to watch… when the explosion wasn't directed at you. He quickly settled his face into a look of passive indifference and waited himself, wondering what the guy's reaction would be to his employer apparently dead drunk in front of a minor.

"That's the spirit." Yuuko smirked saucily, reaching out to the bottle sitting on top of the table to apparently pour him a drink. Takeru had to fight the laughter that wanted to bubble up out of him at that and a wicked lick of mischief had him holding up his empty cup as if to accept her offer. He had to fight the grin that wanted to crawl up across his face as well.

They didn't have to stay in the pose for long, the sliding door slammed open and two teenage boys stood framed in the doorway, both of them around sixteen to seventeen years old. One of the boys was shorter than the other and slimmer, with curiously heterochromatic eyes and glasses. The other boy was taller and broader, his face set into a deadpan look that had Takeru immediately pegging him as the one who'd asked his friend for the soufflé... Which made the one with the glasses Yuuko's assistant.

True to his prediction the boy with the glasses stopped dead in the doorway, taking in the scene that the both of them had posed for. Takeru added to it by pretending to jump a little as if in shock. The teenager with the glasses took the time to shove the load he was carrying into the arms of the teenager behind him before he darted forward to snatch at the bottle of alcohol. He missed by a wide margin as Yuuko pulled it back with a smirk, took a long draw straight from the bottle and huffed out a satisfied breath right into the teen's face.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING! YOU CAN'T GIVE A KID ALCOHOL!"

Yuuko ignored the admonishment and waved the other teenager in the room, setting aside her bottle to reach for the wrapped box he was holding and ignored the plastic shopping bags. "Ooh, food. Finally~!" She cooed, opening the cloth to reveal several stacked boxes, picking up her chopsticks to start doling out the contents, first onto his plate then onto her own. The stoic faced teenager who had handed over the food sat down at an open space and accepted the box of food from her when she handed it to him, also ignoring his friend as he carefully picked what he wanted before turning curious brown eyes in his direction.

"So you're the one that needs the purification ceremony?" the boy asked placidly, pouring Takeru some tea into the cup he'd been holding up for Yuuko from a thermos before pouring some for himself.

Purification Ceremony? Yeah he probably needed one of those. Takeru nodded as he took a blew some air over the hot liquid. "Quite badly, I'm sure." He murmured into his tea cup, staring at the warped reflecting of his face in the tea's surface. A warm hand settled on his head and the teenager sitting next to him gave his head a pat. "Don't worry. We'll get things taken care of."

Takeru smiled up at the teenager. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Dinner consisted of rice balls, sweet and savory omelets made into rolls, fried chicken, a cloudy soup called miso, a savory pancake thing made with cabbage and chicken and several different noodle dishes that had Takeru wishing he had more than the one stomach. Afterwards there was a sponge cake topped with cream and strawberries that seemed to be made up of more cream and strawberry than cake.<p>

The other occupants of the table were the two teenagers who had brought the food over. Watanuki Kimihiro, Yuuko's assistant and the cook who had made the meal that they'd all helped demolish and Doumeki Shizuka, Watanuki's 'friend' who worked as a Priest at a temple. With them the two had brought a strange black creature that looked like a mutant rabbit with a glowing blue jewel set into its forehead. It had introduced itself as Mokona Modoki before bouncing over to Yuuko with a cup stolen from Watanuki's side of the table. It had then proceeded to help the woman drain the half of the alcohol left in the bottle she'd been playing Keep-away with Watanuki the whole meal.

The interaction between the four of them, Yuuko, Watanuki, Doumeki and Mokona was warm, lively and full of good humor even with all the teasing and sarcastic comments bandying across the room. Shuu decided he'd had enough sleep about halfway through desert and had popped up from his collar, startling the teenagers sitting at the table. A fluffy snake-like fox curled itself up out of Watanuki's shirt to give him an equal surprise and the two animals were now chasing each other across the room, bouncing around, squeaking happily, rolling about the place with the rest of the room watching them.

"Ahh~! There's nothing like a good meal and some sake after some good honest work~!" Yuuko exclaimed, stretching as she stood up.

"What work?" Watanuki muttered as he set about cleaning up the remains of their dinner, expertly balancing the cups and plates everyone had used in a tall tower and bustling off into a part of the house Takeru assumed the kitchen was. The kitchen couldn't have been far away cause the teenager was only gone for a few minutes before there was a loud crashing noise. The sound of several plastic containers falling and a shriek, giggles that Takeru had become very familiar with within the last few hours came through the wall along with the sound of what seemed to be a wrestling match going on in the next room.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! STOP! LET ME GO! NO!"

"Watanuki has to change~!" Maru cheered, no doubt pulling at her victim's clothes in the same way she had been wrestling Takeru out of his clothes.

"Change, change~!" Moro repeated.

"WELL THEN LET ME DO IT! OUT!" Watanuki roared and several more thumps sounded.

"Meanie~!"

"Watanuki is a meanie~!"

'Wish I could have gotten them to back off that way.' Takeru thought to himself as he absently scooped up a squeaking Shuu as he tried to bounce past him. The fluffy snake-like fox stared at him curiously before leaping up onto the table to wait for Watanuki, who stomped into the room a few minutes later.

"Why did you set them on me?" The boy demanded of Yuuko, teeth gritted and looking like he was about a second away from steaming. "If you wanted me in a kimono you could have just told me to change!"

"Now where would the fun be in that?" Yuuko purred as she got up, giving her own Kimono a quick pat down and adjusting it so it wasn't hanging quite so loosely anymore. "Be a dear and grab the umbrella from the store-room~! The red one with the butterflies~!"

"For the purification ceremony?" Takeru guessed as he took the unspoken cue to get to his feet.

"Don't be silly." Yuuko laughed as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder to lead him out of the room. "The umbrella is for the rain." She clarified sweetly, a butter-wouldn't-melt smile shining down on him.

For the rain? What did that mea… no. Oh no. Digging his heels into the springy tatami mats Takeru tried to fight against the grip that had him walking forwards and failed miserably. Yuuko was just about as strong as Maru and Moro and didn't even seem to be having any trouble herding him out of the room and down the hall to the front doors.

"No-no-no-no-no-no! I'm not going out dressed like this! Why can't we do this here! Here is good! I like here! Nice and private! Wouldn't that be important for a purification ceremony?" Takeru asked frantically he tried to scrabble backwards and free himself. He almost fell over when Maru and Moro popped up out of nowhere like the little demons they clearly were and wrestled his feet into flat, boat-shaped, black lacquered sandals with butterflies decorating the straps. They fit over the split toed socks he was already wearing like they were made to be worn with them.

"With all the magical artifacts I keep here just waiting for someone like you to come along? I think not. Especially not with how recently your magic's been freed and certainly not now we're about to cleanse that taint! Do you know the number of gribbly things that would sit up and take notice? You don't want that~! Doumeki-kun's family shrine has been warded against such things for generations and it's specifically set up for you right now~! You wouldn't want to ruin all of his hard work by not going would you?" Yuuko asked, turning his face up to look at the teenager's deadpan face. The teenager was watching his protests from the door, already having put his shoes on and was waiting patiently for them to catch up.

Takeru wavered. "Can I at least change into something like that?" He asked pointing to Watanuki as he returned with large bag and a strangely shaped umbrella. The other boy was wearing a dark blue robe that had been folded shut at the front and tied closed with a simple cloth belt, it looked heads and away less feminine than what he was currently wearing!

"He's wearing a kimono for boys." Doumeki remarked as he pulled a plain black umbrella from the umbrella stand near the door.

"So what? I want one too!"

"You're wearing a pretty girls kimono."

" ... I. Am not. A girl!"

OoO

In the end and despite his protests he was ushered out of the house and into the front yard, firmly tucked under Yuuko's arm and under the umbrella a still-complaining Watanuki was being forced to carry over them.

"Why do I have to be the one to carry the umbrella?"

"You wouldn't force this poor, delicate, unwell flower to carry something so big and heavy so high above their own head? Why, he's barely half your height Watanuki! How cruel~!"

"I'm not delicate!"

"I wasn't say _he_ should carry it! Why can't Doumeki carry the umbrella!"

"… I've got my own thanks."

"I WASN'T ASKING YOU!"

Yuuko chuckled into his hair as she leaned forward to squash him into a hug. "I shall stick to calling you flower then~! Or perhaps duckling? Birdie? You're such a sweet little thing~!" The woman cooed as she led their little group through the busy streets of night-time Tokyo.

Takeru couldn't help cringing at the idea, even though he knew she was only suggesting it to satisfy her own personal amusement. The high flush that had to be very visible on his face must have been very entertaining to her. The smirk on her face only grew every time he so much as squirmed. He wanted to find a hole somewhere to crawl into and perhaps never come out again. Heads turned as they walked through the night city and watched their motley group, seemingly ignoring the fluffy snake that was peeking out of Watanuki's collar, Mokona who was riding high on Doumeki's shoulder and Shuu who was watching the world from his perch on his ponytail.

"Easy. They just think you're cute." Yuuko soothed as he lifted a hand to palm his face, stress levels rising at being the center of very-much unwanted attention. She gave his shoulder a quick rub before dropping a folded fan into his hands. "Here, take a look at this." Takeru accepted the object knowing it was very much a distraction and busied himself with opening it, turning his attention to the warmth of magic radiating from it. The purple and gold fan opened up to reveal butterflies again, ones charmed to move and flap across the silk they were printed on.

"I'm sensing a theme here." He remarked, opening the fan to its widest and admiring the ripple of colour that washed across the surface. "Why butterflies?"

"Why skylarks?" she bandied back instantly with a returning smirk.

"Oh." ... Touché.

Playing around with the fan kept him from focusing too much on the people who stopped to stare at them and the few people who pulled out their phones to take a picture. Takeru had the fan half up in front of his face by the time they reached the train station and only peeked around it to watch how Watanuki bought their tickets. He paid sharp attention to what buttons he pressed and where he got the ticket from. The only time he'd ever ridden a train aside from the Hogwarts express had been with Hagrid before the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts and he'd been too distracted with the man himself to pay attention to how Hagrid had bought their tickets to London.

The tickets were fed into the ticket gate and they were let onto the train's platform. Heads turned again and several women cooed in his direction, making his face burn a brighter red. When the train arrived a man in a business suit leaped up out of his seat to give it to Yuuko, who smiled, sat down and pulled Takeru into her lap, wrapping her arms around him to stop him from struggling out of her grip.

The situation was remarkably familiar to a memory Yuuko had just recently returned to him, of his mother forcing him into a very similar kimono and having pictures taken of him by all the tourists at the festival him and his older brother had been taken to. Watanuki shared a commiserating look with him before standing to obscure the view the rest of the train had of them, positioning the bag he was wearing and the umbrella to that effect. Takeru gave him a grateful look as they seemed to be drawing more attention on this train ride than he had on the train to London back when Hagrid had been escorting him there for his first trip to Diagon Alley.

The trip was thankfully a short one and Takeru didn't waste very much time getting up off Yuuko's lap when she finally let him go. He tried his level best to run off the train but was hampered both by the Kimono he was wearing and the sandals. The best he managed was a fast power-walk that Yuuko and the rest of the group had no trouble keeping up with. A brief stop at the entrance of the train station to open up their umbrellas again and they were back in the rain, this time in an area that felt slightly less crowded than Tokyo had been and were full of residential houses instead of tall business buildings.

Takeru felt the Shrine before they got there.

He couldn't really describe the feeling. It was like Hogwarts in that the whole area felt powerful but it's presence felt brighter than the school had ever felt. It was like comparing tea to pure water. There was just something that felt clean about the area. Pure in a way Hogwarts had never been. It felt like standing in the wake of a super-concentrated Patronus Charm… and he felt positively grey in contrast to it. Tarnished.

Nausea rolled over him like heat and a sudden weakness had his knees buckling out from underneath him. A strong pair of arms caught him before he could make contact with the ground and he was easily lifted up into a strong pair of arms, Doumeki had abandoned his umbrella to catch him.

Takeru heard Yuuko say something but couldn't really hear her, he felt himself be carefully gathered up against Doumeki's chest as the world swum in circles around him and closed his eyes, swallowing against the urge to revisit his dinner when the teenager started running up a flight of seemingly endless stairs.

OoO

Waking up in the middle of a large near-empty room and lying on a thick pallet had to be about one of the strangest ways he'd ever woken up. Takeru groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared blankly around the room. Eyes landing on Doumeki, who was kneeling facing in his direction, hands clasped around a wand shaped rod with several folded streamers of paper hanging from it. The teenager had changed out of the white shirt and school pants he'd worn to Yuuko's shop and was instead wearing a blue and white Kimono with oddly wide pants.

"You're awake. Do you feel better now?" the teenager asked as he stiffly got to his feet, laying down the rod down at his side so he could help Takeru up onto his own feet.

"… yeah. Wow I can't believe how different I feel!" Takeru breathed as he allowed himself to be pulled up. The magic that had been roiling under his skin in agitation before felt calm now and his head felt clear.

"Feels like you just stepped out of a room filled with smoke doesn't it?" Yuuko asked from where she was sitting against the wall next to a nauseous looking Watanuki who was staring past him further into the room.

Turning to look at what had the teenager's attention Takeru blanched himself at the sight of a nine-tailed Kitsune. Not just at the animal itself but at what it was eating and felt a little sick himself, the animal was chewing around a large glob of a sticky looking substance. The magic that had been forced out of him during the ceremony? Takeru grimaced himself as the animal swallowed the disgusting mess and gave the room a satisfied huff.

"Isn't that bad for its health? Eating something like that?" Takeru asked in consternation, his face twisting in disgust.

"Magic is magic to creatures like Pipe Foxes but you can give him something to balance it out if you think it'll help?" Yuuko suggested with a grin. "Test how your magic feels now."

Takeru hesitated for a minute.

"No one's going to be able to tell, we've got a barrier up." Yuuko told him, tapping her fan against the rope pinned to the wall with folded paper streamers hanging from it spaced at even intervals. When his hand hesitated again over the satchel were he was keeping Quirrell's wand she continued "... and these two already know about magic so you won't get into any trouble there."

Relaxing Takeru nodded and teasing the wand out of the satchel only to yelp and drop it against the floor boards. Touching Quirrell's wand had felt like sticking his hand into a vat of blackened oil. "Oh yuck!" he complained as he rubbed the feeling off his hand. "Urgh, it didn't feel like that before!"

"The purification ceremony seems to have been quite the success then." Yuuko commented as she got up from where she was sitting to pick the wand up into a silk handkerchief and examine it. "Do you have any other wands you want to test out?"

Takeru reached inside his satchel and pulled out the two remaining wands in his possession, Dumbledore's old wand didn't feel as slick as Quirrell's old one but it came close and Lockheart's wand just felt wrong in his hands. Takeru placed them in the handkerchief Yuuko was holding the other one in and nearly yelped again when she tossed two of them across the room to where the fox snapped them out of the air and gobbled them down. The remaining wand, Dumbledore's, was wrapped up firmly in the square of silk and tied shut with a ribbon. She tossed the bundle over to Doumeki who caught it in a wooden box lined with paper.

"Oh dear, clumsy me. It seems as if I owe you a new wand… Watanuki~! Pass me the bag I asked you to pack earlier?" the woman cheerfully. "I'll send the one Doumeki has over to you by owl once it's been properly cleansed, however as payment for the other two… how does a brand new wand sound?" She asked as her teenage assistant huffed and trooped forward.

"… smooth." Takeru muttered, eying her through narrowed eyes. "Real smooth."

"Great~!" Yuuko replied, ignoring the sarcasm. "Try this one then~!"

Takeru reached out to accept the wand she held out for him sceptically. "You do realize the last time I had to choose a wand it took over and hour to… match me… with one." Takeru trailed off when the wand touched his fingers, a tell-tale warmth building up and a showering of pink and gold sparks announced a perfect match to the room.

"…. Pink?" Takeru asked faintly as he flicked his new wand to stop the sparks. "Why pink?"

"Cherry Tree and Phoenix feather~! I knew that combination would suit you~!" The woman smirked. "Haven't you ever seen a Japanese cherry tree before? It's quite the sight to see in full blossom, pink petals everywhere!"

Did that mean that the red sparks from his old wand had symbolized holly berries? Damn, well he wasn't about to go around throwing sparks up anymore, he wasn't a first year anymo… Ok so he didn't know how old he was, but at least he wasn't as inexperienced as a first year anymore!

A slick sounding burp had his attention turning to the pipe fox that was now licking at its own muzzle and Takeru was reminded of why he had wanted to pull out a wand in the first place. Giving his new wand a quick twirl to test the weight he closed his eyes and called up every bit of happiness he could for the spell he was about to cast. Just about the only spell he knew that would hopefully counteract the amount of darkness the creature had just ingested.

Flying for the first time. Finding out the meaning of his real name. Finding out how his real name was written and said out loud. Finding out he had living family members.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A bright light formed from the tip of his wand and burst forwards, forming not the expected form of Prongs but a Skylark the size of a Volkswagen instead. It's perfectly formed feathers gleaming a bright liquid silver rather than the burnished colour of his old Patronus and it brightened further when its wings flared. The pipe fox sat up in immediate attention and leaped forward, opening its mouth impossibly wide and swallowing the spell down whole.

The pipe fox changed from mid-air, from a full bodied nine tailed fox to the little snake like creature he had seen in Yuuko's shop and Takeru belatedly recognized the creature Shuu had chased around the dining room.

"Wow." Watanuki breathed as he reached down to scoop up the contentedly purring Pipe-Fox. "That was amazing!"

"I know right? That was so much easier to cast! I can't believe how much easier." Takeru enthused. "If that's what a purification ceremony does maybe I'll keep coming back again someday." Takeru joked as he twirled his new wand around his fingers, testing and getting used it. It was about half an inch shorter than his old one so it was going to take a bit of use to get used to the new weight.

"Not that! I meant wow at how you managed to turn Mugetsu back to this form! You don't want to know how much trouble we usually go through to get that done!" Watanuki said as he cradled the replete pipe-fox to his chest.

Takeru laughed. "I can imagine. That's one of my most powerful spells."

"Speaking of powerful we have something we need to talk about." Yuuko spoke up again. "I'm about to ask you a few questions here and I'm going to need you to answer me honestly, this can mean the difference between life and death for you. If you're suffering from what I suspect you are then I can't let you leave without fixing the problem…"

Takeru gingerly shifted from foot to foot and hid his nervousness by fidgeting with his new wand, rolling it back and forth between his hands. "I… um, yes. Ok. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a familiar besides your Pygmy Puff?"

"I… yes, a snowy owl." Takeru answered promptly and without hesitation, wondering what this had to do with anything. "She's currently flying over from England."

"Ok, good. Now I have another question and I want you to think about it before you answer me, has she ever cast any spells? Does your owl seem different from other post owls you've seen in the past? Also has your Pygmy Puff cast any spells that you know of since you've had him?"

"Um… no. I don't think I've ever seen them cast any spells at all, both of them seem very smart and my owl can find me anywhere I go and both of them seem to be able to understand whatever I say…"

Yuuko seemed to relax a little at his answer but continued to question him seemingly randomly. "When did you lose your last wand?" She asked. "Your original wand?"

"A few days ago." He answered warily.

"Hmm… and how many years had you been using it?"

"Five years."

"While you had that wand was there ever a moment when you had a large-scale magical incident? Have you ever unintentionally cast a spell when you were angry or upset without the proper preparation, incantation or ritual?"

"I… yes! How did you…?" he trailed off when she held up a hand.

"Do you know what the term Oversurge means when it comes to a Wizard?" she asked gently.

Takeru shook his head.

"I'm not surprised. Wizards in the west aren't exactly the best at recognizing what's right under their noses." She muttered before turning back to him. "Do you at least know what a familiar is for and why a wizard needs a wand when the source of their magic comes from inside?" When Takeru shook his head she sighed. "Of course you don't. Hogwarts. Best magical school… fah!"

"Okay, first of all the reason a Witch or Wizards needs a wand and a familiar is to anchor their magic. Now a wand can be replaced with anything and as long as it focuses your magic, it does its job. Your magic loops through you, your familiar and your wand so it doesn't lash out of control. This is supposed to stop Accidental Magical accidents from happening afterwards, sometimes moments of extreme emotion will jolt your magic out of that loop of control but usually the accident is small and embarrassing. Very little magic is meant to escape you in such instances."

Takeru frowned at that explanation. His magical accidents hadn't ever been small and embarrassing, they had always ranged in the large and obvious. The embarrassing part sounded right though.

"… however in some rare instances you get an individual who needs more than just a wand and an ordinary familiar just isn't enough to anchor their magic. A familiar such as an owl, cat, toad or rat are too weak to channel the magic coming from their witch or wizard. The magic they can't contain escapes. Magic bursts out from either the familiar, wizard or wand on its own. The wizard or familiar show signs of boosted speed, strength or intelligence. The magic going through any and all routes to stay contained but ultimately failing. This is called Oversurge and nine times out of ten it goes unnoticed and the sufferer either dies… or goes insane."

Takeru sucked in a shocked breath as his mind looked back on several instances in his past that described almost exactly what she was describing. When the Dementors attacked him in Little Whinging… hadn't he lit his wand up with Lumos without even touching it? Also hadn't Snape remarked on a Stinging Hex he hadn't even cast during their ill-fated Occulmency lessons? And more recently the explosion that had slammed Dumbledore into the bookcase?

"I… I'm going to go insane? Or die?" Takeru asked, turning a little green around the gills at the thought. After coming so far? After all he'd been through? Without having met his family even?

"Lucky for you the cure is very simple." Yuuko continued on as if she hadn't just dropped a verbal bomb into his lap, reaching into the bag she'd had a grumbling Watanuki fetch for her. "You just need a magical familiar." She finished, pulling out a hand-sized box and carefully handing it over to him.

Accepting it with the wary caution he eased the lid off and peered inside, wondering what manner of creature would survive in a box without holes. He blinked at the egg nestled neatly inside the well cushioned inside as well as what appeared to be a capped baby bottle. Reaching in he rested the box on his lap and carefully lifted the egg out, cradling it in his hands and marveling at the warmth. Whatever was inside was alive in spite of sitting in a box for however long it had been in Yuuko's shop.

"What's going to hatch out of it?" Takeru asked as he slipped the lid of the box so it fit underneath and brushed a careful hand over the surface of the pure white egg, it was about half a size bigger than a chickens egg and it fit easily in the palm of his hands when he lifted it out.

"No idea. It really depends on the wizard, no two eggs are ever the same. Just remember to feed whatever comes out the potion in the bottle when it's born ok? It's a strengthening potion made to make sure he's strong enough to handle your magic for the rest of his life. You're really quite lucky you came to me when you did. If we hadn't caught this so early your familiars could have died from the strain of trying to contain your magic and that would have guaranteed quite a violent rebound. You'll find they make excellent pets now."

"Will my owl still be able to find me?" he asked worriedly, absently stroking the surface of the warm egg he was holding with his thumbs.

"A familiar who's lasted five years as a Familiar to an Wizard suffering Oversurge would be able to find you on the moon." The woman laughed as she got to her feet. "Doumeki-kun, can he borrow your shower? He needs to wash off the residue."

"Ahh." The teenager agreed, getting up from where he'd been frowning over Dumbledore's wand and cut through the rope that was pinned to the walls. "Follow me."

OoO

Takeru hurried through his shower, half certain Yuuko would burst in at any moment like she had in the dressing room when he'd been wrestling himself out of the kimono her pet demons had dressed him in. She'd handed him a small, clear plastic bag to hold the egg she had given him so he could take it into the shower with him. He emerged to find out that someone had been in the change-room while he'd been showering anyway to replace the kimono and all of its ridiculous accessories for clothes more suited for a boy. Boxers, a pair of jeans, a belt, a long sleeved t-shirt, a short sleeved one he pulled on top of it, a jacket, and a baseball cap that he used as a temporary basket to hold his egg-in-a-bag while he spelled his hair dry.

He pulled on the pair of sporty looking socks patterned with tennis racquets, slipped his feet into a large pair of brown slippers and walked back over into the hallway with the hat tucked under his arm while he spelled the plastic bag holding the egg dry. He was about to tuck his wand away into the back pocket of his new jeans when he remembered why he was holding this new would-be familiar and maybe he shouldn't risk 'losing a buttock' when he'd just been told he was suffering from Oversurge. He guessed he was going to have to keep his wand in his satchel until he could either make or buy a proper wand holster… he'd already had his wand fire off at least three times that he was sure of.

Yuuko was waiting for him when he reached the end of the hall. She grinned, tucked him under her arm again and whisked him off to another part of the house where he was sat down in a chair and a hair dresser's tools were spread out on the table. He guessed his payment was due. "Ok, now sit tight while we cut your hair." She said as she handed him a bright blue potion to drink. "We don't want to give you a bad hair-cut…"

"What _we_, I'm the one who's going to be cutting his hair." Watanuki grumbled as he swung a black barbers cape around his neck.

"… and if you do it wrong I'll take it out of your paycheck~!"

* * *

><p>The hair cut was a quick affair, Watanuki clearly knew what he was doing and had collected the cuttings from his head and had them carefully packed away in tissue paper to be folded into a paper bag that Yuuko clutched to her chest and spun around delightedly with. A look into the hand-mirror gave him a good look at the hair-cut the teenager had given him and had him grinning. Short hair really made a big difference, he didn't look half as much like a girl with the way his hair was cut now! It was the same length he'd always worn it only his hair lay sleek and neat. His fringe had been trimmed in such a way that his forehead was completely covered and the rest of his hair framed his face. Overall he liked what he was seeing and almost felt glad to see the rest of his hair go, would have been completely happy to see it go had it not been into the hands of a witch. Well she HAD promised it would never be used against him so he would have to be content at that, also it was a binding magical contract, he'd felt it fall into place!<p>

When he was led to the door by the group he was handed a new pair of sneakers and a small dark blue bag that he was stopped from opening out of curiosity by Doumeki. "It's a charm against evil spirits." He explained. "If you open it you let the prayers out."

"Oh, um… thanks. Hey, if you guys ever need help with your pipe-fox… send me an owl? I'll come over if I can."

"… and who would we address the letter to?" Yuuko asked, smiling from where she was leaning against the entrance way.

What? Hadn't he? God how rude! He hadn't even introduced himself!

"Hibari Takeru." he said as he turned to open the door to leave the Shrine, the words he spoke sounding warmer than any other words he'd ever spoken. "Address the letter to Hibari Takeru!"


	8. Chapter 8

Tokyo at night time was very different from Tokyo during the day. For one, there seemed to be more people walking around than there had been during the day, and for another there were lights everywhere he looked. Electronic billboards, neon lights overhead, gigantic television screens, lanterns hanging from doorways, telephone poles wrapped with tiny lights similar to Christmas lights only shining with more than just red, green and white. Overall it had the streets so well-lit that you could hardly see a single patch of pure darkness anywhere.

Takeru slipped through the crowd unnoticed by the population at large, keeping his head down and the brim of his ball cap low over his eyes as he carefully scanned his surroundings. The rain seemed to have let up while he'd been inside Doumeki's family shrine for the purification ritual, leaving only a crisp scent to the air, wet walkways and puddles that were easily side-stepped.

Everything came easier to him, he was faster now, more agile and he could even breathe easier. By the time he reached the station he wasn't even breathing hard. He almost wanted to turn right back around and seek out his healer again to give her a hug. She'd teased him practically the entire time under her care but she'd delivered what he'd asked of her in full. No other adult in his life had done that before… so far.

The sheer level of energy in his system put a bounce into his step that had never been there before. He felt his body stretch and move painlessly, muscles smoothly allowing him the movement he hadn't been able to achieve on land without pain for years now. The new freedom of movement made him feel like he was one hop away from jumping onto a broomstick and flying.

The glorious feeling of freedom took a steep and unexpected dive when he ran into a problem at the train station. Feeling very much like he wanted to hit his head up against the ticket machine Takeru crumpled the handful of British currency in his hand and eyed the machine with irrational resentment. Where was he going to find a place to trade in his British pounds for… whatever they were using here in Japan?

Damn, why couldn't the Muggle world be like the wizarding world in this one instance? Galleons were usable all around the world! Couldn't the muggle world have a currency that could be used internationally? If only he could use the Galleons he had on him to buy his… ticket. Oh. Well THERE was a thought.

Takeru palmed his face briefly as he stepped away from the machine, feeling every one of the years he's spent in the wizarding world smack him in the face, he'd started to go native without realizing it. He hadn't been this fluff-brained before he'd entered the wizarding world. He needed his logic-center realigned. All he needed to do was find the closest magical district. Locate a bank. Deposit his gold and change some into whatever currency they were using in Japan. Maybe even find somewhere to spend the night, it was getting late and he was starting to get hungry again despite the dinner he'd had earlier.

Walking back out of the train station at a brisk pace Takeru took refuge in an alleyway behind a dumpster and pulled out his map and scrying crystal again, falling back on his now tried-and-true method of finding what he needed. He was going to have to find a way to thank the twins for teaching him this trick, it was most useful bit of magic he'd learned in ages. Or rather the most useful he remembered learning in ages… whatever.

Taking a moment to flatten a cardboard box over the wet tarmac he smoothed his map flat and focused. He needed a Magical District. One with a bank. One close-by. Or at least an entrance way. Swinging his crystal over the map he let it start to swing on its own and closed his eyes, loosening his grip on the leather chord holding the crystal as he did.

"Point me Magical District."

OoO

He was led out of Tokyo's busiest areas and into a park. At this time of night the place was almost deserted, the only people he met on his way through were a couple hurrying through the place at a fast paced walk. He was quick to hide the map he was holding out of sight behind him when he saw them coming and pulled it back out when they past him. It was lucky thing the place was so deserted, it made being able to cast Lumos over his map that much easier.

Again just like with Doumeki's shrine and Yuuko's shop he felt his destination before he saw it, the air thickening with the feel of magic. It was like feeling heat on a cool day. Takeru's eyes were drawn to the side where noticed several small house-shaped sculptures lining the path he was on. They were about the size of his hand, carelessly arranged and covered in moss… and were radiating magic.

Tucking his wand and map away now that he no longer needed them to find where he was going Takeru followed the pathway lined with all the little, palm-sized houses and wondered what they were. He was given a clue a few minutes later when he passed waist high statue of a Buddha, a plate of offerings sat on the stone in front of it with a cup of liquid that he wasn't willing to get close enough to identify. Shrines?

The path came to a stop at another waist high statue covered in moss, only this statue wasn't of a Buddha. This one was an egg-shaped, near-formless… thing with barely-there arms clasped in front of it, no legs and a face with a wide creepy grin stretched across it. Behind the statue was a building that he hadn't seen on his way up the path and an unlit tunnel directly behind the statue. Hesitating only long enough to brush a palm against the seemingly-cheap plastered walls of the building Takeru snorted softly to himself at the feeling of smooth stone and moss under his fingertips. Typical of the wizarding world, the entrance was Glamored to look unimportant, abandoned and in disrepair.

He took a firm step into the mouth of the tunnel and tried not to let his shoulders tighten up in anxiety at the feel of being surrounded by magic again. He wasn't in Hogwarts right now. He wasn't even in England. The half-formed thought of never setting foot in the wizarding world again after leaving the country had been particularly short-sighted… stupid even, given that he was here now with no usable money and nowhere to stay.

Reaching a hand into the deep pocket of his jacket Takeru slipped his hand into a loose grip on the egg resting there and let his fingers brush over the smooth, warm surface and willed himself to calm down. Also given what Yuuko had told him about the condition he was suffering from… He needed to find out more. He also needed a wand holster. If his wand was going to be firing off without warning he was going to have to keep it somewhere safe and contained.

Maybe he should see if he could get his hands on any information regarding binding spells. See if his magic could squashed down if it couldn't be 'turned off'. It was a serious thought to consider. What if one day this new familiar of his died? Or if he lost or had his wand snapped? He'd go into Oversurge again. He'd rather have no magic than take the risk of turning into another Dumbledore or Voldemort. Hell, he was close to having had enough of Magic altogether.

Filing the thought away for later contemplation Takeru made his careful way out of the tunnel and out into what looked like an old-fashioned train station. Seemed like he'd stumbled across the right place after all. This looked almost exactly like platform 9 ¾'s waiting area. Curved benches. Tall pillars. Booth at one end of the room to buy tickets from and packed with a mixed-bag of magical creatures and oddly proportioned people dressed in Japanese finery. He felt out of place in his muggle clothing until he remembered the clothes he'd bought in Diagon Alley.

A quick trip into a nearby bathroom had Takeru dressed in the clothing and boots he'd bought in Madam Malkins. Feeling a little more confident now that he wasn't sticking out of the crowd like a sore thumb he positioned himself at the end of the line short line of people and creatures waiting to talk to whoever was at the ticket desk. Or what appeared to be the ticket desk. There was no other way out of the room, it was either talk to the person in the booth or go back out the way he came.

His turn came up after a walking root vegetable, a humanoid catfish, a floating robe filled with water and a hag had been led through a vanishing door. Takeru kept his face carefully neutral when the person in the booth turned out to be a person made entirely out of shadows. One dressed up like some kind of security officer.

"Where to?" the figure asked, hollow voice rasping and dry.

"Somewhere I can exchange gold for Muggle money. Preferably somewhere I can find somewhere to spend the night and locate some books." Takeru answered immediately, wanting to get this whole confrontation over with already. He was totally going to change all his gold into muggle money if he could get away with it. He didn't want to go through this again anytime soon. This was just far too different than what he was used to.

OoO

Paying for a ticket with a Galleon quickly fished out of his satchel Takeru was led through the door that appeared to the right of the ticket booth by another shadow person, this one female, to a jetty that led to a ferry boat. The shadow person had him hand his ticket over to yet another shadow person at the dock and he was shown to a seat on the ferry. The walking root vegetable was sitting further up, the only other… person in the near-full ferry who had been in front of him in the line at the front desk. It gave him a slow sideways look and what appeared to be a faint smile before closing its weirdly shaped eyes and easing back in his seat, seemingly ready to enjoy the ride.

The ferry ride wasn't a very long one, he passed the time staring out the window and out into the distance to where he guessed they were headed. When the ferry docked he allowed the root vegetable to get out before him and joined the line of others headed out onto the flight of stairs that apparently served as a dock. Following the crowd Takeru soon found himself in the middle of what was clearly a magical town. All terraced landscaping and stairs, lanterns, open-air restaurants and shops with customers milling all over the place. This was nothing like anything he had ever seen… and he loved it.

Spotting a book store Takeru headed straight for a clerk and soon had a book solely dedicated to Oversurge tucked into the crook of his arm while he browsed the other section he had been directed to. The cramped section that dealt solely with binding spells and their ilk was squashed right up in a corner right next to the large and rather tempting selection of what seemed to be defensive books. He had a hard time concentrating on picking out a book when his eyes kept straying over, but managed to finally keep his attention on scanning the titles he actually needed when a young boy dressed in green robes edged in gold walked up to scan the defense section.

With his attention focused on finding an appropriate book Takeru managed to completely forget the defence section and the brown haired boy scanning the titles nearby, right up until he managed to lose his grip on the book sitting in the crook of his arm. He'd been trying to juggle the books in his hands to put a few back on the shelf when it fell out. The boy dressed in green caught the book before it could hit the floor and the bells attached to the wide cuffs of his sleeves jangled, jolting Takeru's concentration.

The boy's oddly boat-shaped, green and gold hat had skewed slightly when he caught the book and an absent hand reached up to fix it, thick brows furrowed in confusion as his amber eyes flicked over the title. "Oversurge?" the boy muttered, frowning as he looked up. "You're suffering from Oversurge?" the kid asked, still holding the book. "Have… have you seen a healer yet?"

"Um… yeah. I just wanted to know more about it, the healer already sorted me out… see?" he replied, pulling the egg Yuuko had given him out of his pocket briefly to show the kid and putting it back.

The boy relaxed for a brief moment before he caught sight of the books Takeru had been attempting to juggle back onto the shelf and his body stiffened again. "If you're suffering from Oversurge… why are you looking up binding spells?" the kid asked, face twisting up into an affronted glare of accusation. "Are you TRYING TO TURN YOURSELF INTO A WALKING BOMB?"

Takeru jumped at the sudden change in tone, the books on binding spells flipping up into the air on their own as his magic slipped from him a little bit at the startle. The boy didn't wait for him to try and catch them out of the air, instead Takeru was dragged away from the area before they could hit the floor. Manhandled away from the books on binding spells by a kid who looked a good few years younger than he currently did. He was pulled briefly into another section of the store where another book was pushed into his hands before being chivvied right up to the front desk.

"Hey! What? What do you mean walking bomb?" Takeru asked the furious looking boy as the kid tapped an impatient foot against the floorboards and glared at him hard enough to light a fire. "Also why this book?" he asked as he looked down at the book the boy had selected for him and clearly wanted him to buy. "Clow Reed… a bibliography? What good is this going to do for me?"

"You don't need binding spells, you need OUTLETS!" The brown haired boy emphasized. "If you bind your magic it has nowhere to GO. Then when it explodes, you'll just die - and take a lot of near-by people with you! Haven't you ever heard of spontaneous human combustion? That's Oversurge happening! Also Clow Reed was exactly like you, that book tells everything he ever tried to do to stop Oversurging and how he died. It's to stop you from coming up with any more bright ideas." The kid snapped waspishly, still tapping his foot against the floor and glaring pointedly at the books the clerk clearly didn't know if he should ring up or not.

Takeru digested that, silently fished out the necessary gold needed to pay for the two and accepted his change from the bemused looking clerk. He tucked the books under his arm and turned to the now reluctantly satisfied looking kid and smiled, reaching out a hand in introduction.

"Thanks for the advice, my name is Hibari Takeru, what's your name?"

The boy stared blankly at his face for a bit, seemed stunned into speechlessness for a few seconds before a bright red flush crawled up over his face to seemingly set it afire. The kid fumbled to accept the hand he was holding out and gave it a few sharp shakes. "L... Li Syaoran." The boy stuttered out, gaze still fixated on his face, amber eyes now large and wide open. Was this kid just not used to people being nice to him? What a hilarious reaction to a simple smile!

"Ok Syaoran… do you know where the bank is around here? This is my first time here and I don't want to get lost."

Syaoran seemed to choke on something and his face flushed a brighter shade of red. For a moment he looked like he was torn between replying and running away. Bodily jerking backwards a step the kid turned away briefly, muttering words under his breath. Takeru caught the words 'Name' and 'Honorific' before the kid turned back around, face still flushed but now settled into something resembling determination. "I… I was headed there anyway!" The Syaoran announced loudly as he marched sharply to the exit. "I might as well show you the way!"

OoO

The bank, true to the theme of this particular pocket of the Wizarding world, was a large Japanese structure that was easily three to four stories high. It was built on a low terrace that made it seem like it was the same height as the buildings surrounding it. The inside, in contrast to Gringotts, was all wood and sliding panels. There was a reception desk where yet another oddly proportioned person wearing a kimono was greeting customers and directing them through doors on either side of him.

A floating ball of gold light, about the same size and shape as an air-filled water-balloon floated past him and Takeru reached a hand out to grab at it. His guide made a choking noise and snatched his hand out of the air before he could catch the orb, grabbed him by his collar to pull his head down to his height.

"What are you DOING!" Syaoran hissed, eyes darting sharply left and right as if to see if anyone had noticed Takeru's aborted movement. "Do you KNOW what they do to thieves here? They get turned into pigs and sold to the food houses! Do you want to get eaten?" the brown haired boy asked, the firm grip on his collar shaking him as if to emphasize his point, amber eyes blown wide in panic.

"What? Thief? I was just… it looks so much like a snitch that I just…" Takeru trailed off as he carefully pried Syaoran's hands off his collar. "I used to be Seeker on my school team, it makes it hard to ignore gold-colored flying things… What is that thing anyway?"

Syaoran seemed like he was caught between laughing, palming his face and wanting to hit him. In the end he merely snorted and scrunched his face up into what Takeru was beginning to think of as his default expression to scowl up at him. "It's a Kanedama. A Money-spirit. They carry money around the bank. Don't try to grab one, people will think you're trying to steal from it." The boy hesitated as they moved forward along the line of people waiting to be seen by the person manning the front desk. "… also, while we're on the subject… don't pull any tails when we get further in. The bankers hate it."

Takeru blinked at that and was about to ask what the boy meant by that when he was called forward. The queue in front of him already having been directed into the bank while they'd been talking. The person in the tall booth leaned down at them and smiled in welcome, his overly large head making the gesture seem wider than was polite. "Where can I direct you today gentlemen?" The man asked lightly, the red and gold fan in his hand tapping the wood of the desk in front of him to get their attention.

"I need to exchange gold for Muggle money, whatever they're using in Japan. Is that possible?" Takeru asked.

"… Yen. He wants to change gold into Yen." Syaoran corrected, face smoothing out of his typical frown and into a polite mask. "Please excuse his rudeness, he's from the West." The boy excused for him, hands reaching up in front of him so palm could meet fist and bowing slightly.

"England." Takeru clarified as he hastily copied the gesture. "… also how do you know that?" he asked Syaoran under his breath as the attendant bowed back and gestured them through a door.

"You tried to catch a Kanedama."

Takeru shook his head at the sarcasm. "What did you mean earlier?" He asked as they waked down a short corridor. "About pulling tails? Cause I have to say I've never seen a goblin with a… tail." Takeru's voice trailed off as he caught sight of a clerk waiting for them.

"Maneki-neko. They're the bank-tellers here." Syaoran clarified, pushing him lightly to get him walking forward again when he stopped to stare. Maneki-neko were apparently large, cat-like creatures that walked upright like a human. They had white fur and calico coloured patches around their ears, legs, paws and the tip of their long tails.

"… you totally tried pulling one of their tails didn't you?" Takeru asked Syaoran under his breath as he eyed the hypnotizing motion of the creature's tail as it led them further into the bank.

"Shut it."

OoO

Takeru met Syaoran back outside the room he'd been led into by the cat-like creature after he was somehow convinced into depositing the majority of his gold into a new bank account. He was given a muggle debit card, a Vault Key, a check book, a tall stack of Muggle money the Maneki-neko assured him was the proper currency they used in Japan and a complimentary black wallet that had enough room in it for all of it and the gold he had left over.

He didn't even know how he'd been convinced out of changing all his gold into Yen. He'd have felt it if the cat had tried to manipulate him using magical means and it wasn't like he'd been planning to keep his gold in the long run. The whole transaction hadn't even taken that long! Guess the creatures had more in common with their Muggle counterparts than just their outward appearance. That kind of charisma was dangerous.

"Finished?" Syaoran asked as he pushed away from the bit of wall he'd been leaning up against.

"I guess?" Takeru muttered as he tucked his new wallet away."I just need to get a wand-holster and I'm done."

"I know where you can get a good one, follow me."

"Didn't you need to use the bank too?" Takeru asked curiously.

Syaoran blushed bright red again. "I… already. When you were…" the boy tried to lie. Takeru hid a laugh behind a cough and smiled down at the boy who choked on the lie he was trying to give him as his blush turned at least three shades darker. This kid really was weak against smiles wasn't he?

The shop Syaoran robotically led him to was a tiny little nook of a place that was squashed in between a restaurant and what seemed to be a souvenir stall. A quick talk with the owner where a measurement of his new wand was taken and Takeru had a wand holster that would guard him, and others, from any unexpected bursts of Oversurge coming from his wand. Takeru switched his satchel over to his left hand, fitted his new wand-holster over his right arm and watched in fascination as it morphed into what looked like another simple leather cuff. A flick of his wrist and his wand was in his hand, another had his wand back in the holster.

Paying for his purchase Takeru hesitated for a bit. "Don't suppose you have any idea where I might be able to find a place to stay for the night?" He asked the stall owner as Syaoran wandered over with his own handful of purchases.

The stall owner grinned as he accepted the payment for the purchases Syaoran made, absently bagging them and handing it over to the boy. "Oh yes, of all the places you could stay here, there really is no better place than Yubaba's Bath-house. The service is unparalleled and the food is to die for..." The stall owner was cut-off mid-spiel with a sharp yelp when a sword cut through the air to embed itself in the wood behind him. Syaoran had pinned him to the spot by his kimono and was now glaring fit enough to strip the man's skin off.

"I can't leave you alone here for five minutes without you trying to find new ways to kill yourself, can I?" The boy asked sharply as he tugged his sword out of the wall and levering a warning glare at him as he sheathed the sword into the holster on his back. How had Takeru missed the sword before? The boy grabbed his hand and dragged him off, stalking away from the stall. "Yubaba's bath-house caters to things that would eat someone like you for breakfast!"

"Easy, calm down. It can't be THAT bad."

"THEY EAT PEOPLE THERE! PEOPLE! EAT!" The boy snapped as he turned around, marching right into his personal space and glaring up at him as if to somehow drill the importance of the idea into his head.

Takeru looked down at the boy who seemed to be trying his level best to protect him and smiled. "… and I'm sure I could have taken care of myself if they had tried. I DO have my wand on me. I'm not helpless."

Syaoran made a strangled noise and ran grabbed his hand again. "You can't stay there, it's bad. Really bad. If you're finished here you can stay at my place! You're looking for somewhere to say the night? I have a futon you can use!"

When Takeru hesitated at the idea Syaoran pulled at the hand he'd grabbed and dragged him in the direction the shop keeper had indicated. "If you don't believe me I'll just SHOW you!"

OoO

The bath-house was a beautiful red Japanese building with green roofing, multiple floors, tall windows and gold ornamentation everywhere with an air of opulence around that made Takeru uncomfortable just looking at the place. Even without the warning he'd been given he didn't think he'd have liked staying at such a richly decorated place. He'd have taken the Leaky Cauldron over this place any day of the week.

Syaoran led him into a garden that nestled right up against the bath-house with body tense and several slips of yellow paper held in his hand. Frowning slightly at the sight Takeru caught his wand and hid it in his sleeve, just in case. This wasn't a joke. The kid was serious. Serious enough that his hand kept twitching as if to reach for the sword on his back.

"There, look. Toad Demons." Syaoran nudged him, motioning to look over the hedge they were hiding behind and into the window were two ugly, squat beings were taking a bath. "They eat anything." Crawling further along the hedge the brown haired boy pointed out a few other beings of interest. "Tengu, they're bird Demons. They ALSO eat people… oh look, Ogres… do I have to explain them to you too? Should I tell you what that fox woman is? She's what we call a Kitsune. A fox spirit. They eat just about anything as well and…" Syaoran cut himself off and looked sharply up.

Tackling Takeru into a nearby bush the younger boy plastered a palm over his mouth to stop him from making any noise and pointed sharply up. At the white and green dragon winding its way out of the sky towards the bath-house. The dragon touched down at one end of the long bridge leading up to the bath-house and transformed mid-way into a boy with shoulder length green hair and eyes.

If the collection of demons bathing in the bath-house hadn't been enough, the dragon certainly sealed it. Paling rapidly at the thought of sleeping anywhere near a shape-shifting dragon and its collection of demonic friends Takeru tapped on the hand that had sealed over his mouth and motioned for the other boy to let him up, tugging pointedly on his wrist. Which seemed to be a mistake. Syaoran turned brick red again, whipped his hand away from where it had been pressed over Takeru's mouth. Spluttering the brown haired boy jerked up out of the hedge as if he'd been electrocuted… and into full view of the collection of monsters they'd just been watching.

There was a beat of stunned silence from the occupants of the room they'd been spying into.

Lunging up out of the hedge Takeru grabbed the strap of leather sword-holster crossing over Syaoran's chest and hauled him out of the garden, wishing he had enough time to kick the other boy for his ill-timed spaz attack. Predictably the commotion started the second they were out of sight, along with a hair-raising scream, a few screeches and a bellow of "PERVERTS!" that nearly had Takeru leading the two of them into running into a tree. That had been the girls side of the bath?

Swerving Takeru turned the movement that would have had them running full-force into the tree into a swift turn that had them running down a small alleyway instead. Takeru shoved the brown haired boy up against the wall, scrabbled frantically at his wrist to resize his satchel and pulled his invisibility cloak up out and over them. He pressed his own hand over the boy's mouth when he squeaked at the sudden movement and waited, heart pounding loudly at the close call they'd just had.

One of the toad demons, one that reminded him uncomfortably of Umbridge, started stalking near the mouth of the alleyway they'd ducked into, sniffing at the air as if she was trying to scent out their location. Slipping a hand into his satchel Takeru carefully pulled out one of Lockhearts bottles of perfume and allowed the cloak to shift a little. Pulling his hand back he waited until the toad-woman was turned away before lobbing it high over her head. A moment later it came crashing down near her feet and burst, releasing a wave of sickly sweet scent that would hopefully overpower anything she could sniff out of them.

It worked a little better than expected, most of the creatures that had followed them from the bathhouse backed away hastily and a good half of the watching crowd dispersed. Waiting for a few minutes just in case anyone was watching for them Takeru eventually pulled the cloak off of them and pushed away from where he'd been pressing the younger boy up against the wall. "That's my death defying stunt done with for the next year." He joked as he folded the cloak over his arm.

"… you get into this kind of trouble all the time don't you?" The boy asked after a long moment, kneading his own forehead with both fists. Syaoran paused for a moment to scowl at the crumpled yellow slips of paper in his hand and put them back into a pocket.

"It's not like I go LOOKING for trouble, I just kind of fall into it… speaking of trouble." Takeru said as he looked up at the sky and the white dragon now flying purposely in their direction. "Where did you say your house was?"

OoO

As far as rude awakenings went, Takeru had been through worse. This was perhaps the strangest though. The screech that woke him up almost had him levitating himself up out of thick mattress he'd been sleeping on and floundering around for his wand. In that short, sleep-fuzzed moment he was back in Magical Tokyo running away from the denizens of the bath-house. When his brain cleared he wasn't being chased by monsters, instead he was on the floor in Syaoran's bedroom, on the mattre-futon the boy had taken out of storage for him.

The pillow he'd been curled around abruptly changed colours. Turning from green to blue and his blanket folded in on itself, shrinking down to the size of a napkin. Syaoran, who had been soundly sleeping in his own bed, flipped like a fish out of water to land right on top of him. Takeru was flattened into the futon with a thump and the cancelling charm that Takeru had been aiming at his blanket hit his borrowed Yukata instead, cancelling the charm he'd cast on it the night before so it fit a little better and the yukata shrank back down to its original size.

"SYAORAN! WHO DO THESE SHOES BELONG TO!"

A thundering set of feet sounded and Syaoran let out a groan of annoyance, planting a hand on Takeru's chest to lever himself up, still sleep-fuzzed himself. It had been late when they'd gotten back from Magical Tokyo, nearing almost to midnight. Judging by the light coming in through the window it had to be either an overcast day or… it was still rather early.

Takeru lifted himself up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes. "Urgh. What a way to wake up. Good morning though, sleep well?" he asked the boy who looked like he was having a bit of trouble waking up. Syaoran managed to pick himself up onto his knees before awareness started kicking in, though it took until the door opened for him to wake up all the way.

There was a bit of a long and awkward silence. The butler who had picked them up from Magical Tokyo's exit was standing at the door with a dark haired young girl. She held Takeru's sneakers in one hand with her other one still on the door knob as she stood there with her mouth gaping open, staring at the two of them with her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Pulling up the shoulder of his yukata from where it had slipped off Takeru managed to sit himself up as Syaoran spluttered and turned red.

"SYAORAN! WHO IS THIS AND WHY IS SHE WEARING YOUR YUKATA!"

"I beg your pardon? I am not a…"

"Meilin! He's not a…"

"SYAORAN I HATE YOU!" the girl screamed, throwing the sneakers she'd she was holding at them and bursting into tears as she ran out the door.

"… what… was THAT all about?" Takeru asked, catching his shoes out of the air before they hit the ground.

"… it's too early for this." Syaoran groaned, pulling the pillow Takeru had been sleeping on over his face.

"Will Syaoran-sama and his guest be wanting breakfast?" the butler asked from the doorway, hands behind his back and leaning around the door with his eyes shining bright with hilarity.

OoO

Breakfast was spent with Syaoran staring down at his food flushed pink and with Takeru fidgeting in his seat at not being the one making breakfast. Afterwards Wei, Syaoran's butler, had ushered the boy back into his room to change into his school uniform. Takeru took the time to duck into the bathroom and change back into the muggle clothing Watanuki had picked out for him at Yuuko's request. Syaoran reappeared in the dining room wearing something that looked like what Meilin had been wearing when she had burst into Syaoran's bedroom, a white sailor's top with a long sleeved black sweater with what appeared to be the school's crest, but with a pair of pants instead of the skirt she'd been wearing.

"Off to school?" Takeru asked, stepping into his sneakers and sitting down on the raised step at the front door of the apartment to tie the laces.

Syaoran nodded stiltedly as he stepped into a pair of black leather loafers, a white hat held in one hand and balancing a bag in his other. Takeru smiled at that, keeping his face straight. School. How normal. After the mad scramble out of Wizarding Tokyo, getting through to Muggle Tokyo dressed in the outfits they hadn't had a chance to change out of and that early morning wake-up Syaoran was heading off to school. Like yesterday happened all the time.

Would he be able to live like that too one day? Walk seamlessly between Magical and Muggle without even a single hitch in his stride? Right now he was seriously considering never setting another foot in the magical side of the world. He may not be able to seal away his magic… but that didn't make him anymore accepting towards it. If anything last night's insanity was just one more reason to avoid it.

Following Syaoran out of the apartment Takeru bid goodbye to the butler who bowed at him as they left and copied the bow when Syaoran did. Was that a Japanese thing? He must have been too young to learn proper etiquette when he'd been taken from his family because he had nothing in his memory in regards to bowing…

Well… whatever. It wasn't like he couldn't learn it now.

Syaoran's apartment was on the third floor of the apartment complex he lived on and the brown haired boy avoided the elevator without even thinking about it. Given that he was currently uncontrollably leaking magic Takeru took this as a rather clever idea and followed suit, hand reaching into his jacket pocket for the egg his new familiar had yet to hatch out of. It couldn't hatch soon enough. Judging by the little accident he'd had earlier when Meilin had come to wake them up he was still having these outbursts, which would hopefully stop when his familiar was born. The idea of being trapped in an elevator wasn't anywhere near his idea of fun.

Takeru was glad for the thickness of his jacket when they finally hit the streets, the air was still cool, carrying a hint of rain that cut crisply through them. He rubbed at his slowly numbing nose and made a mental note to buy a pair of gloves and a scarf soonish, maybe an umbrella as well.

"So do you think you can point me in the direction of a library or somewhere I can use the internet?" Takeru asked Syaoran, buttoning his jacket closed and turning up his collar against the cold. "I need to look up something."

"D… don't you have school as well?" Syaoran asked with a small stutter, face flushing to red again, stumbling as his foot caught a raised flagstone in the footpath.

Takeru snapped out an automatic hand to right the boy before he could plant his face into the sidewalk and kept the bitterness that welled up inside him from creeping into the smile he gave the younger boy. "Holidays started early for me." He said simply, turning away as if to scan the street they were about to cross as his face twisted with the words leaving his mouth. Holiday. What a laugh.

"T… there's a shopping mall near my school." Syaoran stuttered again. "I'll take you there!"

"As long as it's not going to make you late." Takeru replied, falling into step with the brown haired boy as he started stalking off.

"It's really close to the school!" Syaoran insisted.

The walk there truly made for a short trip and on the way people called out greetings to Takeru's guide. Syaoran seemed like he was popular among his classmates, which made him wonder why the boy had such a shy temperament. Surely someone that popular would be a little more confident? Then again, given his own experience with popularity, he hadn't exactly had a lot of fun being the 'popular kid' at Hogwarts. Maybe it had something to do with being a wizard attending school with Muggles? Syaoran had certainly seemed more at ease with himself in Magical Tokyo.

The school was all tall white buildings with light blue roofing, spacious grounds and beautifully lush and well-tended gardens. The front gate even had an elegant statue of an angel done in white marble posing with a golden hoop held over its head. Syaoran turned his back on it all and pointed out a shopping mall. The boy then paused for a minute, gave him a narrowed eyed look before pulling out a notebook and hastily scribbling a quick map which he ripped out and shoved into his hand.

"It's the big building in that direction, the one with the white roof past the park. Ask anyone along the way, just… make sure they look… trustworthy." The boy ordered, looking like he was half a minute from forgetting about school and leading him there himself. Takeru smothered a grin behind the piece of paper he'd been given as he made a show of looking over the scribbled map. This kid really had some rather strong protective instincts didn't he?

"Alright, get into school already, you're going to be late." Takeru scolded, turning Syaoran around so he was facing his school and lightly pushing him forward. "I promise I'll be careful and not talk to anyone suspicious." He said as he waved the boy into the school. "Seriously, I'll be fine, I'm not about to get myself into any trouble in the muggle world. I'll see you if I'm still around when you get out."

"Really?" Syaoran asked, seeming to perk up at the idea.

"I'm going to be researching something at the library or in an internet café and I have no idea how long that's going to take. I might have to leave sooner if I finish early though." He warned the boy who's eyes had brightened. "I'll be leaving sometime in the afternoon."

Syaoran had been about to reply with something when a familiar screech sounded and the young girl who had woken them up so rudely earlier marched right up and dragged the boy away by his ear.

"YOU'RE STILL WITH THAT WOMAN? HOW COULD YOU? IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE SCHOOL EVEN!"

Takeru grimaced and waved a hasty goodbye as beat a quick retreat, leaving Syaoran to his fate. As much as he wanted to correct her mistaken assumption about his gender he really didn't want to have to sit through her screeching. He'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime through Petunia Dursley.

OoO

Having the proper muggle money went a long way into easing him back into the way the muggle world worked. He wandered about the shopping district for a while and picked up a scarf, beanie, gloves and umbrella as he went. He bought himself some snacks and a bottle of 'iced tea' and set himself up at the first internet café he found. When the man at the front desk asked him how long he wanted to use the computer he went and purchased a four hour pass, he didn't know how long his research was going to take and he wasn't going to take his chances undershooting it. He didn't want a repeat of his time in the library at London. A fifteen minute slot was way too short for the kind of digging he was looking forward to doing. It wasn't as if he had to use it all at once.

The booth he picked had a wall behind him and tall walls meant for privacy of browsing, he was short enough that he just about disappeared behind the desk. It was perfect, he could pull out his map and scrying crystal if he wanted without anyone wondering why he had them out.

He sat in the booth for a food few minutes before he dared to type in his password, spreading his map out flat and positioning his scrying crystal close by. He put the unopened bottle of tea on the floor next to him and the slip of printed paper with his password in front of him. He then pulled off his new gloves and shoved them into a pocket so he could type more easily. Done with procrastinating Takeru shook himself and typed his password in sharply. He'd come this far already. He was ready to find out more.

He floundered for a minute as the controls seemed to be set to Japanese but another minute tinkering with the settings and he'd changed the language settings to English. Pausing for a minute he got up to borrow a sheet of paper and a pen from the bored looking attendant at the front counter and went back to the computer. He really should have bought a notebook.

First he was going to look up directions. How to get to Namimori from where he was right now and which was going to be quicker, bus or train. Then he was going to try and figure out where he was going to stay once he got there and what his next move was going to be. He was going to have to scout out his family, get their measure.

Directions turned out to be relatively easy. All he needed to do was catch the train down to Namimori. The bus was a bit more complicated and took over two hours to get to where he needed to go. The next thing he started looking up were the abandoned buildings in the area, the businesses which had gone bankrupt and the deserted areas of Namimori. He could have looked up the local hotels and such in the area but the muggle world didn't let their children run around unsupervised and staying at a hotel on his own was asking for someone to notice him. A bit of magic and any abandoned building would be liveable within minutes. Add the furniture he had packed away in his satchel and he'd be set for whatever.

Scribbling down the addresses of the handful of places he'd found and Takeru had a good handful of places to choose from. An accidental click and a quick browse through the camping website made him sit back in his chair at the list of available gear. Should he pick up some camping gear? A tent or sleeping bag would be useful, so would a couple more changes of clothes. He still didn't have a pair of pyjamas.

Sighing at the idea of more shopping, at least this time it wasn't for girls clothing, Takeru draped himself backwards over his seat and stared at the wall behind him. He was doing it again. Acting with the same wishy-washy, procrastinating attitude he'd recognized in himself on the airplane headed to Japan. He'd already used up a good chunk of his allotted four hours casing out Namimori and its surroundings and he had yet to look up anything related directly to himself.

He was scared.

Straightening up in his seat Takeru leaned over the desk and palmed his face, wishing he could blame the fear on being in a foreign country. On being alone in said country. On anything except what the nasty little voice his mind was trying to tell him. That perhaps his parents had been in on turning him into Harry Potter. Or that somehow someone would find out what had happened to the Boy Who Lived and track him down. That he was walking into a trap. That all he had to do was show his face in Namimori and he'd be right back where he started.

He was a short train ride away from Namimori and… he was terrified of what he'd find once there. A very large part of him was screaming at him to run. Away. Far away from Namimori and anywhere where the Order might be able to find him. Of anywhere that could even loosely be connected to him. That small possibility that that Dumbledore had told someone who and what Harry Potter really was…

The part of him that had always wanted a family… was only just louder than the part of him that wanted to run. Closing his eyes and mentally kicking his terrified paranoia into a corner Takeru eased himself into leaning back into his chair and reached for his ice tea to soothe his nerves, easily drinking through half the bottle in one big gulp. Stuffing a pastry into his mouth he shrugged the tension out of his shoulder-blades and reached for the mouse again.

He was just going to have to bite the bullet on this because he wasn't done yet. Until he had the chance to case out his family, their home and the way they lived… he wasn't going to be able to live with himself. How many times was he going to have to kick himself in the ass to move forward? Either his family had sold him off to Dumbledore or they hadn't. He was going to find out. If it turned out they had given him away…

It would hurt. But wasn't he used to it? Better to know than to wonder.

And he was tired of not knowing.

He hit jackpot at the third website. There were news websites featuring possible sightings, information on the kidnapping and a series of police sketches of what he might look like now. The latest of which was so similar to his own reflection, disregarding the hair, that it was as if the artist had been looking at him while drawing it. There were blogs of people speculating on what had happened and other conspiracy theories. There were television interviews of his parents and the people in the neighborhood.

His family were still living in the same house. That… made things both easier and a lot more real. Looking up his family revealed his father's occupation as a private detective in a Tokyo office. His mother looked after the family shrine and an interview revealed that she spent a lion's share of her time chasing down leads via the internet. She even had her own website dedicated to finding him. On the surface of things both of his parents looked like they'd made every effort available to them to track him down. How much of that would hold up under a check of the area around their house and themselves… was impossible to tell.

He had a brother didn't he? Looking up his brother brought up several new forums, school dedicated websites and what appeared to be a community run neighborhood watch program headed by him. Entering into a chat-room Takeru got into an interesting conversation with a boy who attended Namimori Middle School. A boy who was utterly convinced that his brother was a demon in disguise. Epic beat downs? Apparently his brother would go after Yakuza as well as bullies and rule breakers with absolutely no discrimination. Everyone got the same ruthless 'bite of death' regardless of infraction. A Head Prefect beating other students to death? Sure. Like that wasn't a complete exaggeration. That would have gotten anyone arrested the first time they tried!

His skepticism over the legitimacy of the person on the other end of the chat room resulted in a link. A video on youtube? Someone had actually captured his brother on video? Aside from a few photos taken of his brother from behind, he had yet to get a good look at him. Clicking the link with barely contained interest Takeru nearly jumped out of his skin when the screen went black and the computer in front of him died.

Jerking backwards in his seat Takeru lifted his hands up in confusion as a wave of magic pulsed through the room. That hadn't been him! That couldn't have been him! That… had blasted past him and wiped out all the computers in the café. Scrambling up out of his chair Takeru hastily packed away his map, scrying crystal, wand and the notes he had scribbled for himself and abandoned the array of snacks he'd only gotten halfway through and bolted for the door. A magical accident of this scale was hardly going to go unnoticed by Japan's Ministry of Magic and he wasn't going to take the blame for something he didn't do!

He was pretty sure that Yuuko hadn't placed a Trace on his wand or he'd have gotten pulled aside by Japan's Auror's earlier than this. He'd been lucky so far, but if he didn't make tracks fast his luck wasn't going to last very long. A magical accident of this scale was going to call attention, at the very least a check by an Auror or obliviator squad.

Slowing down to a stop from his sprint a good few blocks away from ground zero Takeru made sure no one had followed him and leaned against a tree. He'd managed to make it back to the park he'd passed on his way to the shopping mall. The only good thing about being the only wizard within sneezing distance of the accident was that the magic that had taken out the café's computers wasn't anywhere near similar to his own. All an Auror would have to do to confirm that he hadn't had anything to do with it was compare their magical signatures.

If they were smart.

Closing his eyes and calming his breathing he let felt out his surroundings, carefully searching for any presence of magic. Anything that would give away the presence of whatever Auror came to investigate. Expecting a wizard Takeru surprised himself by sensing something very different. A small moving source of magic. A source of magic similar in feeling to the wave that had interrupted his research. A source of magic that was only a few meters away from him. Damn, well hopefully any Auror's called were too busy trying to figure out what happened instead of chasing down the source. Curious in spite of the situation Takeru scanned his surroundings and stared when he spotted it.

A small, light blue, catlike creature was sitting crouched at the base of a tree not too far from him, it's ears, paws and tail were tipped in a lavender shade and it had an aqua coloured jewel set into its forehead like Mokona. It's purple eyes caught his and there was a silent standoff for a moment. Long ears flattened backwards in a very catlike expression of fear and a hissing growl sounded when Takeru shifted his weight onto his back foot. The animal was clearly magical, worse it was terrified and looked like it was about a hair's breadth from either bolting or attacking.

"Hello…" Takeru said as he tried to smile reassuringly at it, assuming it could understand him. Flicking his wrist he caught his wand as it fell out of his new wand-holster and hoped a shield spell would be able to stop the thing if it did attack. He'd had his fill of magical creatures the night before. "Look, I don't want to hurt you and you really don't want to hurt me… so why don't we just go our separate ways?" he tried, stepping back carefully. Wary eyes trained on the deceptively small animal. The thing was radiating enough magic to make his teeth ache.

He was pretty sure he would have been able to back away safely at that point had Shuu not chosen to wake up out of his nap and bounce out of a pocket. Fumbling to catch the Pygmy Puff before he could bounce over to the strange blue animal Takeru dropped his wand.

Impossibly fast, almost too fast to track, the animal dashed forward to snap his wand up in its mouth and dart off. Thinking back on his reaction later Takeru thought he could forgive himself for the unmanly high-pitched yelp that followed.

"NO! DON'T! I NEED THAT!

OoO

The little blue cat was demonically fast, supremely agile and small enough that it slipped around most obstacles in its path like they weren't even there. The only reason Takeru even managed to keep up with the creature, or at least keep it in viewing distance, was his own agility and the creature's constant need to stop and catch its breath. He jumped over things, ducked, rolled and bounced past obstacles most kids his age would have fallen over or gone around. Using the skills that had once kept him away from Dudley and his gang of followers Takeru chased after the little thief that had stolen his wand.

The cat led him on a merry chase around the neighborhood. Thoroughly messing with his mental map of the area and upending his sense of direction, he had no doubt that he was lost. If the blue animal had stolen anything else of his he'd have given up ages ago and called it an item well stolen. A wand though? That would be difficult to replace. Almost impossible. Yuuko had said she'd send Dumbledore's old one back to him when it was cleansed but who knew how long that would take? He didn't want to use that one anyway! He was already quite attached to his new wand and didn't want to have to get a new one! What if he needed it? He wasn't going to risk heading back into Magical Tokyo without a wand! It would be suicide!

Asking another one from Yuuko was out of the question. Who knew what she'd ask for in return? She'd probably ask for a pint of blood next!

The chase ended a little past midday, judging from the height of the sun, and both participants were exhausted. The little blue creature stumbled as it scrabbled frantically over a small bridge and dropped Takeru's wand. His wand bounced off the little bridge and Takeru lunged forward, catching his wand before it could be swept away by the stream. Thank god wands were made of wood. Wood was good. Wood floated.

Pin-wheeling frantically over the handrails of the decorative bridge Takeru thought he was about to head face-first into the shallow stream when a small weight bounced off the small of his back and shifted his balance back onto safe territory. Sinking weakly to his knees the boy shook his hand free of water and started to dry his now wet wand in between a fold of his scarf, hands shaking from the close call. Well, didn't that encounter put things in perspective a little bit? It seemed like he wasn't quite as ready to give up his magic as he'd thought he was. Hindsight was glorious that way.

A questioning chirp had him turning his attention away from where he was methodically drying his wand, which was currently spitting out small pink and gold sparks, and onto the blue cat that was now sitting on the handrail opposite him.

"Yeah, no. Go find someone else's wand to eat, I need this one." Takeru snorted as he inspected his now dry wand for damage and pointedly holstering it before the creature came up with any more clever ideas. Magic he could live with, it was the impossible situations magic dragged him into that he was more than frustrated with. He was looking forward to spending one day without having a magic-induced panic attack.

Pulling his knees up Takeru rested his elbows up on them and pressed his face into his hands. He was tired. How long was he going to be able to keep up with everything his life was throwing at him if he was constantly running face-first into these kinds of situations? He hadn't even wanted to be anywhere near the source of magic that had killed the computers in the café but had ended up running towards it anyway. Was he cursed or something?

A small weight similar to the one that had made sure he wouldn't land into the stream he had been headed face first into settled onto a shoulder, making him start in surprise. The little blue cat had leaped away from the opposite railing and was now sniffing curiously at his hair and face. "Hey, wait. You're the one that saved me from the water?" Takeru asked as he raised a hesitant hand to pet the creature. "What do you want from me?" The little thing chirped and rubbed it's cheek against his hand. It was irritatingly adorable.

Unfolding a little Takeru reached up with both hands to the cat on his shoulder. "Can I bring you down from there?" He asked, pausing for a bit before taking the next affectionate bump of its head against his hand as a yes. "Don't bite me please." He pleaded as he lifted the animal into his lap. "I've only just gotten healed up and I'd rather not visit my healer again anytime soon."

In sharp contrast to its attitude at the start of their little race around town the animal was now purring, rubbing up to the pets it was receiving and lidding its eyes shut in pleasure. "Why did you have to go and steal my wand if you were going to act this sweet afterwards?" Takeru asked tiredly, leaning heavily against the handrail. "Were you just looking for fun? Do you tease everyone this way?" he asked. The sleek little cat merely curled up in his lap, contentedly resting its head on its lavender paws and closing its purple eyes, it's rhythmic purring lulling Takeru into a light doze.

He didn't know how long he spent snoozing in the sun and honestly couldn't care, he woke up to the strange cat still napping in his lap and Shuu sleeping next to it. He needed to get going. He'd collected as much information from the internet as he could at the moment. He also needed to catch the train to Namimori. Carefully transferring the pygmy puff back into a pocket Takeru gently picked up the blue cat and tried to set it down on the bridge without waking it up. It wasn't having any of that though, it lets its displeasure known with a sharp chirp. A wordless demand to be picked up again.

"I can't take you with me!" Takeru told the little cat. "I already have three familiars!"

It just stared at him.

Takeru wavered slightly as it rubbed up against one of his ankles. "I really, really can't keep you." He muttered as he crouched down to scratch behind the little thing's ears. There was no way he'd be able to leave it behind. The cat was faster than he was, he wasn't about to outrun it and scaring it away would be cruel. That would just be too mean, especially to such a sweet little face.

Well… there was one other option. "How would you like a recommendation?" Takeru asked as he lifted the feline back up into his arms. "I know someone who would LOVE to have you, you're sweet and cute and he's very protective…"

OoO

Finding his way back to Syaoran's school was a tiring exercise. He'd had to resort to pulling out his map and scrying crystal to pinpoint where he currently was and then mark out the school. The trek back was long and tiring trip, made a little more awkward with the way Shuu was chirping up a storm from his shoulder at the strange blue cat in his arms. They stopped briefly at a street stall selling grilled chicken on sticks where Takeru bought enough to satisfy all three of them.

"Visiting some friends?" the stall holder grinned as he packed away the large order.

"Yeah… actually can I have another box please? I don't think this is going to be enough." He replied, thinking that he might as well buy some for Syaoran. He was going to be asking the boy for quite the favor. Magical animals weren't exactly the easiest of pets to adopt and look after.

Takeru fed both animals in the shelter of a surprisingly clean alleyway before moving onwards, munching on his own stick of grilled chicken as he went. Asking a lady who was standing next to her car if she knew when the school let out revealed that he didn't have to wait very long. Parking himself on a bench outside the school Takeru settled the little blue cat on his lap and started petting it to keep it calm. It had started to get a little edgy as they neared the school but seemed to relax at the attention it was getting.

A bell tolled, signalling the end of the school for the day and students started streaming out the doors. Takeru kept a gentle but firm hold on the little cat currently purring in his lap and craned his neck to see over the heads of the kids streaming out of the doors. He didn't have to keep looking for very long, Syaoran came charging out of the school like his tail was on fire. Did he really hate school that much?

"Syaoran! Over here!" He called, waving the boy over to where he was sitting, carefully keeping his other hand on the cat in his lap. "Can I ask you a favor?" he asked the boy as he came closer. "I found this guy causing trouble in the city, can you adopt him? I already have three familiars so I can't take him. He's really sweet and I've already asked him if he'd like to stay with you." He said as he lifted the sleepy blue feline in his lap up into view.

Syaoran gaped wordlessly at him for a good long moment, and was interrupted before he could even work up a reply.

"That's a Clow Card!" a voice exclaimed, shouting almost directly in his ear. "Sakura! Seal it! It's the Dash Card!"

Snapping the gold-colored, ball shaped animal out of the air Takeru stared at it, it looked like a stuffed toy. A stuffed toy with wings. It blinked dizzily up at him and a young girl with brown hair and green eyes darted forward to snatch the strange thing out of his hand.

"Hoeeee~! Kero-chan! Are you alright?" she asked, carefully examining the creature for damage.

"Oh, god, sorry about that!" Takeru grimaced. "I just… instincts… sorry!" he repeated as he pulled his hand back.

"You... need to… seal the … Clow… Card." The thing replied dizzily as it tried to right itself onto its feet.

"I can't do that here! Everyone can see!"

"Clow Card?" Takeru asked. "Clow as in Clow Reed?"

"You know about him?" the girl, who he was assuming was Sakura, asked as she smoothed a hand over 'Kero-chan's' ruffled fur.

Takeru shook his head. "Only his name…" trailing off he eyed the growing group of kids watching their group. "Is there somewhere private we can talk about this?"

"Um… you can come over to my house if you like?" Sakura offered, "It's pretty close?"

Syaoran scowled and opened his mouth, probably to turn her offer down when an ear splitting shriek sounded from the doorway of the school. Meilin had spotted them and was now making her way over, face red and looking feral enough to take a bite out of someone.

"I vote we go now. Lead the way… Sakura?"

"Hoe~!"

OoO

Sakura's house was a lovely two story house painted cream.

Meilin had managed to keep up with them and had gone to start screeching when Syaoran plastered a hand over her mouth and pointed to the small blue cat snoozing comfortably in Takeru's arms. Her eyes had widened and a strangled noise of surprise still managed to make it past the hand plastered over her mouth. Syaoran had only agreed to let her go if she kept her voice down, pointedly staring at the sleeping animal as if to imply why. She'd nodded frantically and had kept her eyes peeled on the little blue cat the whole way to Sakura's house.

She wasn't the only one to join their group, a giggle had turned their attention to a little ways down the street and another girl had joined them. One with long, curly dark hair and a camcorder. Had Takeru's arms not been full with a sleeping magical animal and the grilled chicken snacks he'd have tried ducking out of sight. Though he supposed that reaction was rather belated, how long had she been standing there? He'd gotten far too used to Colin Creevy's stalking tendencies if he was automatically ignoring cameras now.

Introductions were made over tea. Meilin turned out to share Syaoran's surname, and had introduced herself as the brown haired boy's fiancé at the same time the boy had called her his cousin. That was going to be quite the headache in a few years. Poor Syaoran.

Tomoyo Daidoji, the girl with the camera, had introduced herself without putting her camera down, ignoring her tea in favor of stalking around Sakura's now quite crowded room in order to 'Get the best angle'. She was Sakura's best friend and confidant, who not only knew about magic but regularly recorded Sakura's magical escapades with her camcorder. It was a situation the Ministry of Magic would have had kittens over back in England.

Sakura's introduction, Sakura Kinomoto, had gone hand in hand with an explanation of what Clow Cards were, her 'mission' and 'Kero-chan', whose full name was Keroberos. Keroberos was once familiar to the creator of the Clow Cards and had been tasked with the duty of Guarding them and choosing Clow's magical heir.

Finally Takeru's turn came and when he gave his name he pointedly stressed his first name as he slanted a sideways look at Meilin. He was not a girl. He was a wizard who had studied at a magic school in England called Hogwarts. He'd left and wasn't looking to return anytime soon. He had found Dash, the blue cat, causing trouble in the city and it had stolen his wand for a while, leading him on a merry chase.

"He probably thought you were trying to seal him away." Keroberos clarified from his seat on the table across from him, tapping the surface of it with a teaspoon taken from the teacup set in front of him. "Dash isn't a mean spirited card and he's about the least mischievous out of all of them. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Story of my life." Takeru muttered as he carded a gentle hand through the soft blue fur of the cat-like animal draped over his lap. "Does he have to be sealed? He seems so harmless like this."

"And the next time someone scares him?" Keroberos asked as he balanced a spoonful of tea out of his cup for a sip. "He's better off bonded to someone than left on his own, he needs an anchor otherwise…"

"… his magic will flare out of control." Takeru finished for him. "I'm Oversurging." He clarified when the small yellow animal stopped to stare at him. "Also before you ask, yes I've seen a healer and I have a familiar on the way." He said as he reached a hand into his pocket for the egg Yuuko had given him and sitting it up in the box he'd received it in.

"Oooh! Sakura, look! I hatched out of an egg like this!" Kerorberos exclaimed excitedly as he abandoned his tea in favor of coming over to check out the egg. "Only mine was bigger!"

Syaoran scoffed. "Clow Reed made your egg, it's not exactly the same is it?"

"It's so cute!" The animal crooned, ignoring the brown haired boy as he reached out a paw to pat the egg.

Syaoran lunged across the table and grabbed him before he could make contact, panic stretching across his face. There was a brief scuffle when Keroberos latched onto one of Syaoran's fingers with his teeth in retaliation for the rough handling and Takeru carefully shielded the egg with his hands just in case someone landed on it. The brown haired boy howled and flung the small animal off his finger and across the room where it righted itself in mid-air to glare at him.

"What was that for?" Keroberos yelled. "I was just trying to say hello!"

"Are you trying to KILL him?" Syaoran yelled back as he pointed at Takeru. "If the baby gets magic from anyone other than who it's meant for it could die or end up deformed or sick! If the baby dies HE'S going to die. You know that! Or you SHOULD!"

Keroberos froze mid-wing beat and dropped out of the air, shock and horror plastering across his face. "I… I didn't… I was just…" Sakura gently scooped him up off the floor and cuddled him to her chest, stroking his round head as she soothed at his ruffled fur.

Syaroan sighed. "… Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped." He muttered almost grudgingly. "I… guess the rules regarding created familiars are a bit different than with natural familiars. You couldn't have known. For future reference though… Natural familiars should only receive magic from their partners..." He opened his mouth to say something more but clicked his teeth shut after a sideways look at the small form cuddled up against Sakura's chest.

"Speaking of familiars…" Takeru interjected, deciding to save Syaoran from the questioning look he was getting from the others in the room about his interrupted comment. "Shouldn't we do something about Dash now? I've already wasted a lot of time running around after this guy and as much as I like talking to you guys I really do have to get moving sometime today."

"Ah! That's right! He was being so quiet I almost forgot!" Sakura exclaimed as she shot to her feet, fishing a pendant out from the neck of her shirt, but hesitated when the little blue cat tensed up.

"Hey, it's alright." Takeru soothed as he ran a hand through its sleek fur. "You know you can't keep running around wild like you were earlier! Besides you've been sitting here this whole time and neither of these guys have hurt you yet and I promise they wouldn't think of it in the future. I can't keep you but you get to choose who you stay with, what do you think? Nice warm house, food and playmates or outside where it's cold and lonely? At the very least I can vouch for Syaoran here. You saw for yourself how protective he is."

The little cat regarded the room with wary eyes and peered around the room at large, eying up Sakura and Syaoran and absently leaning into Takeru's soothing pets. "I'm pretty sure they'd love to pet you like this too." That seemed to seal the deal. Dash leaped up out of Takeru arms and onto his shoulder, the little cat gave him one last affectionate head-bump before jumping to land in front of where Sakura was standing. Sakura took that as her cue to begin.

Like the way Yuuko had used magic, a complicated array sketched itself out across the floor under the girl's feet in gold light. A sun dead center with a moon woven into the outer ring, foreign script and runes traced out elegant pathways connected into a mammoth spell formation. One that Sakura manipulated with breath-taking ease. "Oh key which holds the powers of Darkness, reveal your true form before me. I, Sakura, command you under the contract! Release!"

The small key-shaped pendant glowed, gaining a powerful corona of light as it started to soak in the magic Sakura was pouring into the array. The key grew and lengthened until it formed a short staff. She caught it out of the air with a sharp snap and gave it an expert twirl before levering it in front of her with her eyes focused on nothing else except for the task at hand. "Return to your true form! Clow Card!"

Sakura pointed the tip of her staff down and a glowing rectangular shape formed in the air in front of her, Dash dissolved into blue wisps of light and was sucked into it. The glow solidified into a card and raised itself into the air to sail up over everyone's heads. Dash's card hovered for a moment as if it were deciding who to go over to before making its decision. Syaoran grinned as he gently caught the newly made card out of the air in front of him and Meilin cheered loudly.

"That's what you use as a wand?" Takeru asked curiously, staring at the staff in the girl's hand. "Just to clarify Clow Reed was a guy right? He sure had interesting taste."

"Actually it aligned to Sakura's magic, those are her colors. Originally it was silver and dark blue and looked closer to a Falcon's head than a song bird's. There's some pictures in the book, didn't you read it?" Syaoran smirked as he carefully tucked Dash away in his pocket.

"Didn't have the time." Takeru muttered as he got to his feet.

"Eh? What do you use?" Sakura asked.

"This." Takeru replied, flicking his wrist to show her his new wand. "I think Syaoran uses a sword?"

"I have a wand." Syaoran clarified as he pulled it out. "I just have a sword charm attached that lets me transform it. I use charm cards too." He said, pointing out the red cord dangling off the handle of his wand and the green jewel attached to it and pulling out a handful of yellow slips of paper.

"I'm surprised your parents let you have a wand so early, in England kids don't usually get to legally keep one until they're eleven years old."

"Mother… pulled a few strings."

"A few?"

A voice coming from outside the room interrupted the conversation and everyone froze. "Oi Sakura, who do you have over?"

Syaoran stuffed his wand and charm-cards back into a pocket, Sakura jumped and hastily hid her staff out of sight under her bed and Keroberos stiffened, assumed a stiff pose and dropped onto his side. Taking his cue from the rest of the room Takeru re-holstered his wand and picked up his tea. The person at the door probably wasn't 'in the loop' as far as magic went.

A teenager with dark hair and eyes opened the door to Sakura's room and ducked his head into the room, taking a look around and stepping fully into the room when he spotted Syaoran. "What are you doing here!" The teen snapped, glaring hard enough to strip skin.

"Leaving." Syaoran snapped, stamping to his feet.

"Same." Takeru said as he got up to his own feet, scooping up the box his egg was still sitting in and carefully tucking it into the cushioned insides. "It's about time I got going anyway. It was nice to meet you Sakura, Tomoyo. Maybe I'll be able to visit again sometime soon."

"And you are?" the teenager asked pointedly, a half-frown still on his face.

"Takeru Hiba… I suppose it's Hibari Takeru here isn't it?" he replied, smiling as he held out a hand for the other boy to shake.

"You're supposed to bow when introducing yourself." Syaoran said as he walked past, grabbing at Takeru's hand.

"Kinomoto Touya." The teenager replied, pointedly smacking Syaoran's hand away to shake the offered hand. "You're from overseas?"

"Yup, England."

"You can shake hands with people if you want. It's not like no one's going to under… stand…" Touya's started to explain but trailed off as his eyes trailed down to the egg still sitting in the cushioned box he was holding. Takeru had yet to replace the lid so the egg was still visible.

Touya visibly boggled, stared and blinked hard. "What the…"

"Class project." Takeru lied easily, replacing the lid on the box and tucking it back into his pocket. He didn't needing Sakura's flailing gestures to clue him into the fact that a secret that was apparently being kept here. Not that the excuse seemed to be working. Touya was giving him a disbelieving stare, one he transferred to Sakura, Syaoran and even down to Keroberos who was still pretending to be a stuffed toy. Takeru wanted to palm his face as the disbelieving silence stretched..

Takeru turned his head to the side to avoid the teenager's eyes and coughed at the air of frustration that coloured the air around him. Touya clearly knew what was going on and the teenager also clearly wanted to call him on the lie. God, what a situation.

"Well, like I said I have to go now. It was nice meeting you all." Takeru said, waving sharply and beating a hasty retreat, leaving Sakura to her brother's all too piercing stare. How exactly did she think she was keeping her magic 'secret' from him? The teenager was clearly gifted in his own way, not many people could actively see magic. Probably had some serious latent magic of his own. Nothing active though or Takeru would have sensed him coming up the stairs long before he'd actually gotten to the bedroom door.

Syaoran and Meilin followed sharply behind him, seemingly as eager to get away as he was, probably scared of 'spilling the secret'. Tomoyo giggled and said her goodbyes to her best friend too, excusing herself with a bow and followed them out of the room with her camcorder still recording.

Touya followed them down the stairs.

"You don't have to leave because of me." The teen insisted, eyes glued to the pocket Takeru had tucked the egg away in. "I can even bring up some snacks for you guys to enjoy." The dark haired teenager offered, stalking after them. He wasn't giving up easily was he?

"Thank you for the offer but I brought snacks over earlier, I really couldn't eat another bite." Takeru smiled as he stepped into his shoes, sitting down on the front step to tie the laces. Syaoran and Meilin dropped a hasty bow and slithered out the door like the little escape artists they clearly were and Takeru was left with Touya staring down at him as he finished tying his laces.

"… was there something you wanted from me?" Takeru asked pointedly as he got up, meeting the teenager's eyes and giving him the chance to ask the question he dearly looked like he wanted to ask. If the teenager asked he would give him the truth he was asking for… but only if he asked. He wasn't about to offer up the information without prompting, just in case he had misread the teenager.

The teen's hands clenched and he held his breath for a long moment before letting it out in a gusty sigh. Touya ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grumbled. "… not really. I guess I'm just going to have to wait to hear it from Sakura."

"If that's what you want. Can't say I'm not relived. There are rules for this sort of situation and I could get into a lot of trouble for sharing as I'm not blood related to you."

"Rules?" Touya startled, staring down at him in shock.

"Rules."

"I… ok. No. I can wait. I've waited this long already…" the boy grouched. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

"Yessir!" Takeru saluted with a grin and escaped out of the house.

OoO

Syaoran and Meilin were waiting for him at the gate.

"What were you going to say earlier? When we were talking about familiars?" Takeru asked as they left the house, giving it a backwards look and waving lightly to Touya who was watching them from the living room window.

Syaoran and Meilin shared an uncomfortable look. "Don't get me wrong," Syaoran began, "Clow Reed was an incredible Sorcerer. If he hadn't died he would probably have continued to pave the way to more advanced magic over the years, it's just..." he trailed off, clearly trying to figure out a tactful way explain himself. Takeru was wondering what on earth Clow Reed had to do with his earlier comment about Familiars but kept his mouth shut.

"Clow... when he discovered that he was Oversurging, he arrogantly disregarded his Healer's advice, believing that as a lesser witch there would be nothing she could tell him about his own magic that he didn't already know. I don't know all the details but he made his own Familiars, and the Clow Cards as well. In theory, his idea was sound. By pouring his magic into different outlets it would bleed off the Oversurge. But in practice, he messed up and was just too proud to even consider it as his condition began to worsen. By making his own Familiars, Familiars capable of generating their own magic, he'd just created two new Oversurge points. He tripled the magical pressure he was under and that's without going into the cumulative effect that all the Clow Cards had on him."

Takeru frowned, "How will this affect Sakura? Or you for that matter?" he asked, concern edging into his voice.

Syaoran flushed and fidgeted a little, not looking him in the eye, "Clow Reed is said to have adjusted the Cards and his Familiars before his death. They can't produce their own magic anymore. They need to be harnessed to another or they'll starve themselves to death and become dormant, or lost forever. Hence why until recently they've been in a dormant state until Sakura's magic activated them. She gave them an unexpected boost of magic, enough to get them to awaken and escape."

"I'm guessing Keroberos and the Cards don't know what killed Clow." Takeru murmured, tucking his hands into his pockets and curling his hands around Shuu and the egg. If he had been Clow he would definitely have kept it from them.

"Clow kept it a secret right up to his death. He had people from just about everywhere telling him to destroy them, that he had time enough to accept a natural familiar before he died but... He really loved Keroberos and his other creations like they were his own children and spent what little remaining time he had left making the adjustments that allowed them to live. He sealed away the Cards and his familiars and chose to die himself rather than destroy them."

Takeru nodded at that, he knew exactly what he would have done in that same position. If Keroberos was anywhere near as sweet as Dash had been then it was no real wonder that Clow had sacrificed himself for them. Imagining trying to tell Dash that he was the reason why he was dying made him feel like the worst kind of bastard. He couldn't even picture himself even considering trying to kill the sweet thing. It was unthinkable and Takeru had no doubt that the person who had created the card would have felt even worse. They would have been newborn babies at the time too.

It was a rough way to die… but he really couldn't blame Clow for the decision. "Poor guy." Takeru murmured. "Poor familiars too, I can't even imagine what that must have been like."

"He dug his own grave." Syaoran muttered gruffly, slipping his hand into his own pocket and to where he was keeping his collection of Clow Cards. "Everyone, everywhere told him that creating his own familiars was a bad idea. Especially when he was already Oversurging so badly, but he was fixated on the idea. Today he's internationally held up as the reason why you don't mess with your own magic… Or, well… there are a whole lot of reasons why he's famous. That's just one of them. He… didn't exactly keep a low profile." Syaoran's tone of voice making it clear that very little of Clow Reeds fame had much to do with how amazing the man had been.

"Thank you for letting me stay over for the night Syaoran." Takeru said as they entered the train station, haven taken the younger boy up an offer to show him the way. "Also for everything else. If you hadn't been there I'd have just walked right into Yubaba's bath-house, that's a debt I owe you so if you ever need any help with anything owl me?"

"You don't owe me anything!" Syaoran replied as he displayed Dash, a pink tint rising in his cheeks to flush his face with colour. "You helped me get Dash, we're even… but I'll still owl you." The boy said. Tomoyo, who had followed them the whole way there chuckled under her breath at it, watching the two of them from a small distance away, still recording. "Where are you headed?"

"Namimori." Takeru answered, insides squirming in anticipation.

"Then this is the train you need to be taking." The boy pointed out, tracing a hand down the chart he had turned away sharply to look at. "You have just enough time to catch it without having to wait." The boy said as he led the way to the ticket machine. "Do you know how to buy a ticket?"

Takeru nodded cautiously and moved forward, scanning the machine and punching in the right destination before feeding it a note fished out of his wallet. He accepted the ticket and turned to look for the right train when Tomoyo reached forward to hand him a small folded piece of paper.

"It's all of our addresses, emails and phone numbers." The girl told him as Takeru unfolded the paper. "Just in case someone forgot to give them to you."

Syaoran turned brick red.

"Come back when you're no longer a walking bomb." Meilin said loftily, somehow looking down her nose at him. "I want to see what hatches out of that egg! When you next come back Syaoran will have all of the Clow Cards! Just you watch!"

Takeru chuckled even as Syaoran spluttered at her attitude. "I'm looking forward to it already."


	9. Chapter 9

.

Takeru watched the passing scenery with sharp, eagle eyed attention.

He'd sat himself down in the first seat available when he got on the train and fished his wallet out to keep his ticket safe, not putting it in his jacket pocket less Shuu would try to make a snack out of it. He quickly decided sitting down had been a mistake and stood up to stand near the doors of the train so he could keep track of the train stations they passed, checking them off the mental list in his head. He didn't want to miss his stop. Well… to be honest a good part of him wanted to, which was why he was standing as close to the doors as he could get without plastering himself to them.

He wasn't going to give himself the excuse he wanted to get out of this. If he could stand to smuggle himself into Japan dressed as a girl, then he could damn well walk off a train at the right stop. He wasn't going to waste the effort it had taken to get himself here, not when he was this close.

The ride itself was insanely smooth, nothing like the rocking and bumping motion of the Hogwarts express. If he hadn't been looking out the window he wouldn't have known he was moving at all. Thus there was no real excuse for him to be leaning up against the plastic divide that separated the area near the door from the seating area or cling so tightly to the rail as the train moved forward.

The hushed air in the compartment he'd chosen was making his nerves itch. People were sitting quietly, there were no phones or games being used by the other passengers and people whispered to each other when they talked. As if they were in a library instead of sitting on a public train. Takeru stared enviously at the a man sleeping slumped over himself towards the end of the carriage, seemingly without a care in the world, and wished he could relax like that, but no. If he tried he'd just be giving himself an excuse to miss his stop.

Wait, was that normal? To fall asleep on the train? Was he sick or something? Takeru switched his attention away from the window and back to the man who was sleeping and wondered if he should go over and check if he was alright. The decision was made moot when the man snuffled in his seat and shifted to lean back in his seat instead of forward over himself. Ok, no need to check. The guy was just napping. On the train. Weird.

Fiddling with the ends of his scarf Takeru wished he'd had enough foresight to have fished a book out of his satchel before he'd boarded the train. He wouldn't have been able to pay much attention to it but at the very least he'd have had something to distract himself, but then again he'd also have had another excuse to miss his stop…

God he couldn't stand still anymore! Pushing away from the wall of the train Takeru walked over to the opposite door and looked out the window, wishing there was more room in the train. He started pacing back and forth between the doors but stopped at the sound of a giggle, two teenage girls dressed in sailor outfits were watching him from the other end of the compartment. Flushing, Takeru turned his back on them and ignored their attention as they whispered to each other behind their hands, trying not to strain his ears for whatever conversation they were having. If he hadn't caught the words 'cute' and 'blue' from them he'd have thought they were laughing at him instead of commenting on the colour of his eyes.

Were they really so eye-catching? Takeru retook his position near the door of the train and started at his reflection in the window instead of looking out at the scenery. It wasn't like his eyes were the unnatural shade they had been when he'd been… his former self. They were blue, sure it was an unusual shade but... Oh, right. Japan. Bright blue wasn't exactly the norm, it must be a pretty exotic colour here.

Takeru made sure his body was shielding him as he put his hand into his satchel, teasing it open without resizing it from its current leather-cuff form and pulled out the hat Watanuki had gotten for him. He'd use his beanie some other time, right now he really didn't want to be drawing any unnecessary attention. It would help soothe his nerves if he at least made the effort to blend in.

Pulling his hat on he wrinkled his nose as he refocused his eyes away from his reflection and back to the scenery instead. Crossing his arms over his chest he leaned back against the wall of the train as it slowed down, having reached another stop. He was almost tempted to get out and switch compartments. He wasn't going to, one misstep or delay and he'd be left stranded at the station, then he'd have to work up the courage to get himself on the next train.

He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably at the idea, trying to loosen the tension that had him so wired up. He wasn't shaking. He could do this. All he had to do was step out at the right stop. Easy. He'd figure out what he was going to do once he was there. Hadn't he always been an expert at thinking on his feet? This was just more of the same.

Damn, he'd forgotten to get camping equipment hadn't he? Oh well, it wasn't like he couldn't pick it up in Namimori. Maybe he'd invest on a pair of binoculars too, if he was going to be staking out his family he was going to need a pair. Or should he get a camera instead? That would look a little less suspicious than binoculars too. He could get himself one of those stupid shirts tourists wore and pretend to be one of them. Hell, maybe he should act the part and speak only in English while he was at it.

Pulling out the notes he'd scribbled down for himself at the internet café Takeru mentally ticked off the stations they had already passed and realized that if he wasn't careful he was going to miss his stop, the next one was going to be his. Pushing off the wall of the train he put his notes away and leaned his palms against the door of the train, staring out the windows and craning his head for a view of the platform. He only relaxed when he caught sight of it and took a deep breath as the train slowed to a stop.

The first thing he did when he stepped out was pull the brim of his sports cap down so it shaded a good portion of what was visible of his face and then pulled his scarf up to obscure the rest. The weather worked for him here, it was still cold and the ground was still a bit slick with rain and the wind had a bite to it that promised more rain in the future. He had all the excuse he needed to shrink into his jacket and hide behind his hat and scarf.

Pulling out his map Takeru quickly exited the train station and tucked himself into an alleyway between two shops and marked his location on it. He then marked out the temple his… family owned, the house they lived in and the school his… brother attended. He wished he'd thought to check out his father's detective agency while he'd still been in Tokyo. Damn. Oh well, it wasn't like he was planning on approaching anyone until he'd thoroughly checked things out.

The Hospital and it's Paediatrics ward was his first stop. Finding the hospital was as easy as asking for directions and finding the paediatrics ward was easier, all he had to do was follow the signs. Takeru let himself in and took the lift to the right floor, he then slipped into the first bathroom he could find and pulled out his invisibility cloak before ducking back out into the quiet corridors.

They should have a file on him here and he'd finally be able to look up his birth-date, which he should have looked up before, he'd also be able to check his medical history. If he got even one hint that his parents had been in any way like the Durleys he was going to disappear. Move somewhere sunny and forget he'd ever been to Namimori. America maybe, if it had been this easy to slip into Japan it couldn't be that difficult to slip out of the country either, all he'd have to do was repeat what he'd done to get in. Hard on his pride but ultimately very easy.

The plan was to find the records room for the ward, break in, look himself up and get out. The plan worked easily as far as finding the records room and breaking in went, looking himself up in said records turned out to be a completely different story and much more of a difficult job than the pictured his imagination had painted. The records were kept on a computer. The computer was password protected. The files that were actually physically in the room might as well have been written in hieroglyphics and were absolutely impossible to understand. Giving up on that avenue of investigation he slipped out of the room and back into the bathroom, tucking his invisibility cloak away before leaving in a mood. Guess he was just going to have to drop that particular idea.

Pulling the map out of his pocket for easy access he followed the marks again, this time to the temple his family owned, and darted up the large flight of stairs leading up to it. He paused right before reaching the top, checked if anyone was looking before pulling the cloak out again and swinging it back up over himself as he silently took the last few steps up.

Aside from the same purity to the air Doumeki's family temple, (or was it shrine?), boasted he couldn't sense anything, at least not anything magical. He moved over to the shade of one of the outbuildings and leaned against a wall, closing his eyes in order to stretch his senses as far as he could. Nothing even remotely magical and nothing that matched Dumbledore's magical signature. Pushing off the wall he carefully explored the area, stopping every now and then to check for any magical residue and coming up with the same result. According to his map the property the temple was built on was large and the back of it opened up to the Hibari family home, it was practically in their back yard. That meant he didn't have to go very far to check it out.

Clenching his hands into fists when he realized they were shaking he took a deep, controlled breath, why the hell was he shaking so badly? This was a cut and dry situation, if he found magic anywhere near or around the house he was going to head for the proverbial hills. No questions asked. If he didn't find magic anywhere near the house then he was going to have to find a library or another internet café and start digging deeper into his kidnapping. Because that meant either his family had been just as much victims as he had been or… they'd been in cahoots with Dumbledore from the get-go.

Then again how hard was that to imagine? Dumbledore would have been busy looking for a replacement for Harry Potter. When would he have had time to convince a Muggle family to give up one of their children? Especially as it looked like he hadn't used magic to do it? Then there was convincing them to tell everyone that he'd been kidnapped and money wouldn't have been enough to do it. The temple, the house he was heading towards, the property that both buildings sat on and the fair-grounds the family rented out to stall-holders during festivals… all of that spoke of understated wealth. The nasty little voice in his head whispering doubts in his head was telling him that perhaps he'd been an unwanted child but his own recently returned memories contradicted that.

When he reached the house he circled it instead of trying to enter regardless of how easy it looked to break into. The Hibari family home was just like Yuuko's house had been, all traditional Japanese sliding doors, warm polished wood and white paper screens, only this house didn't seem to have any 'western' influences to it at all. The architecture was old, matching the temple he had walked past to get here and was exquisitely detailed, the garden was well-tended and lush with greenery.

The walkway that connected the temple to the house was built like a small bridge and slightly elevated off the ground, which was why Takeru took such great care to step only where his feet wouldn't leave any indents on the grass or the raked sand. Was that some kind of security measure or was that just decorative? Either way the meticulously spiralled sand must have been insanely difficult to get so perfectly raked. One stray cat walking through your garden or a particularly strong gust of wind and you'd have to rake the whole thing back into shape.

He wondered if he was being too cautious with himself as he hopped up onto the walkway's low railing to boost himself up onto the lip of the roof, pulling out his wand to spell away the foot-print's his sneakers had left behind. Then again at least he was doing something, doing it intelligently instead of running head-first into what felt like trouble like Harry Potter would have done. He was being smart, he was being careful. He wasn't Harry Potter. He just has the same experiences so he knew how badly this could go down the toilet if he messed up now.

Tucking the cloak completely around him Takeru ignored his inner turmoil and balanced his wand, casting a detection spell that flared out in all directions from his position on the roof. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feedback. Nothing. He'd trusted his senses back at the temple and couldn't help but cast the spell that would confirm the lack of magic he'd felt once he'd reached the house. The spell had washed over the house, travelled past the fair-grounds and all the way down to the stairs Takeru had climbed and bounced back to him. Nothing, absolutely nothing magical on the grounds whatsoever.

It almost seemed safe to assume his parents hadn't been magically influenced into 'giving him up'. Unless he felt magic coming off of them, the tell-tale signs of tampering, then he really was going to have to dig deeper into the family history. He would come back sometime later, his parents didn't seem to be home and at this time of day his brother would be finished with school and be busy with that neighbourhood watch program he'd read about. Perhaps he'd be able to come back later tonight and scan the house again, when he could test the members of the house-hold for any magical residue.

Being twice as careful getting down as he had been lifting himself up onto the roof Takeru soundlessly slipped away, he'd seen enough. He didn't need to keep hanging around any longer, he'd just be tempted to make contact with his family and he wasn't ready for that yet. The family home and temple might be clean of magical influences but he had yet to check anyone in person. He could do that when they were all under the same roof, it would just be easier that way, hell he might even be able to do it from a distance. He knew a ward that would do it for him, it might even save him from the panic attack his nerves kept threatening to drop on him.

In the meantime he was going to need to visit an internet café and perhaps a shop for some of the camping goods he'd been thinking about getting earlier. A sleeping bag was a must, as were some pyjamas a few changes of clothes, he may have been used to wearing hand-me-downs but at least they had always been clean.

Before he left Takeru spelled away the last traces of evidence that anyone had been in the area, the wet footprints on the walkway and the stones he had tip-toed across to reach the bridge without disturbing the raked sand. He also cast a spell that washed over the grounds, house, temple and festival area all at once, anchoring a ward and re-casting the detection spell, pausing only long enough to confirm the lack of magic besides his own.

Shakily holstering his wand Takeru tightened the invisibility cloak around his shoulders and ghosted away from the temple, heart beating faster than anything. He'd set the 'trap' and any magic that crossed the threshold of the ward he'd just placed would tell him everything he needed to know about his family.

All he had to do now was wait.

OoO

Locating a camping store wasn't difficult and soon Takeru was loaded down with everything he needed to go 'camping'. A super thin towel that supposedly dried better than a regular towel, a sleeping bag that would keep him warm regardless of the weather with a slick, 'water-proof' outer surface and a set of cooking utensils made to be collapsible. He even bought a 'pop up' tent that required no real assembly besides being tossing out of its bag and a pair of binoculars he was going to start Charming as soon as he sat himself down somewhere uninterrupted.

He ducked into an electronics store and picked up a camera, a small one that the shop attendant showed him how to use. He paused on his way out of the store and couldn't help but stare at a handsome red and gold photo album, had it not been so obviously muggle made it would have looked almost exactly like the one Hagrid had once given him.

Should he buy one? A photo album… just not a red and gold one. He wasn't a Gryffindor anymore, probably hadn't ever been one given the way his own mind had been twisted against itself. Something to symbolize the start of his new life, a fresh start. Something physical to hold onto that said he was a new person now and could start to fill with memories regardless of how this trip to Namimori turned out.

Making up his mind he pulled a thick white photo album off the shelf and made his way to the cash registers to pay for it. The first photo album he'd ever gotten may have been full of well-intentioned lies, but at the time it had been one of his most prized possessions. He… was going to replace it with something even more precious. The truth.

Tucking his purchases away Takeru wandered into a nearby internet café and tucked his new camera into a pocket, he already knew what the first photo he was going to take was, or at least knew what he wanted a picture of. He was going to take a picture of himself something to hold onto that showed proof of who he really was.. He wasn't Harry Potter anymore. Hadn't ever been. His eyes were blue, his hair was sleek and neat. He wasn't fifteen. He was somewhat younger than that. Speaking of… how old was he?

Paying for a few minutes Takeru sat himself down at the first available computer and fiddled with the settings for a bit, switching the language settings to English before opening up the internet to begin browsing for information. He knew what he was looking for now and he was no longer so reluctant to look for that information now that he'd managed to get himself all the way to Namimori.

He was scared of what he'd find, would have had to have been be brain-dead not to be, but if he didn't force himself through the fear he'd never be able to move forward. He'd be stuck with this fear, trapped forever in the nightmare Dumbledore had turned his life into. Was he really going to let the man continue taking from him when he was well and truly out of his life now? No. No he wasn't going to let that happen.

He'd been kidnapped from his family in 1985, which had been the date Dumbledore had started taking and altering his memories from. Presumably he had created the persona he wanted for 'Harry Potter' and had implanted everything at that time. Paired with his name and the year confirmation came up on the website his mother created. If he ever needed proof that he was Hibari Takeru all he needed to do was match the date the Headmaster had started altering his memories with the date of the kidnapping and he had it. Barely even a fortnight in between.

Takeru didn't know what to feel as he read through the information on the website. On the kidnapping, the 'sightings'. On the numerous photos of himself and his brother. On the family photos shared with the world in an effort at finding some clue as to where he might be found. There were even more composite sketches on this website than there had been on the ones he'd been scrolling through the last time he'd been on a computer and these were of an even higher quality.

His birthday was April 13 1983.

He was thirteen years old.

OoO

Thirteen. The number kept echoing through his head. He was a good two whole years younger than Harry Potter had been. Would have been. Had thought he'd been. He was younger than Ron and Hermione. Hell, forget them, he was younger than Ginny, Colin and Luna! God, he was Dennis Creevy's age! He was only thirteen and he'd entered Hogwarts years earlier than he was supposed to have had!

He'd only been nine when he'd had Quirrell try to kill him. He had killed that basilisk at ten. Had actually been eleven the year he'd met Sirius. He'd competed in the Tri-wizard tournament at twelve and he was only thirteen now, fresh from surviving Voldemort for the… fourth time. Ha. A Thirteen year old had survived the bastard actively gunning for him four times without dying.

How many times had he ignored the awed whispers that followed him through Hogwarts on the basis that most of that had been attached to his fame? Looking back now, knowing what he did, seeing it all from an outsider's perspective… the things he had accomplished were nothing short of... insane.

Truthfully if he tried picturing it in abstract the whole thing sounded so laughably ridiculous. Who'd ever heard of anyone managing to repel a wraith-possessed adult let alone doing so at such a young age? With his bare hands even? Survive a basilisk bite a year later? That wasn't even mentioning the Acromantula nest he'd all but walked face-first into and managed to scrape away from with his life intact. The Patronus Charm. He'd learned the Patronus Charm at eleven. When everyone he knew had already been impressed that he'd learned it at 'thirteen'. The tri-wizard tournament. A twelve year old competing.

And he was thirteen now. It was amazing how much he could see now that he'd put some distance between himself and England. It really put things in perspective. If he had done all that before he'd even really hit his full maturity as a wizard… When he'd been half-crippled with his magic and mind chained to someone else, suffering from Oversurge, with the injuries he's sustained over the years then… What was he going to be like when he finally got the chance to grow?

Was he really… that…

He couldn't complete the thought. Even thinking about in abstract… Damn it, he was impressed with himself. That sounded so wrong. He hadn't seen it in himself at 'fifteen' but the sheer amount of potential he possessed was staggering. If he'd met himself in the DA, as teacher to student, Harry Potter to Takeru Hibari… he knew how excited he'd have been to bring that potential to the surface. Looking at himself as a teacher… he could see potential that rivalled… No. Eclipsed Dumbledore. Easily.

That… was almost horrifying.

Takeru turned back to the browser he'd been ignoring during his momentary mental breakdown at the discovery of his age and began to almost absently scroll through the photographs his mother had posted, pushing the terrifying thought away from his mind. He clicked on the photos individually, starting from the first and ending with the last one posted, scanning each one for any signs of neglect or mistreatment, at first using the pictures to distract himself but then actively pouring over them as his interest sparked.

He knew what he was looking for, he'd lived it at the Dursleys, but… he wasn't finding anything. Either his family was better at hiding their 'dirty laundry' than the Dursleys had been, (and they had successfully managed to convince the whole of Privet Drive that they'd been the epitome of loving parents and long-suffering relatives), or… his family truly had nothing to hide, at least as far as familial relationships went.

His younger self had been happy. A sweet, plump baby in the pink of health. A child clearly doted on by loving parents and an older brother. He was being cradled in practically every picture, held by either his parents, his Uncle, or his brother. Other pictures were of him stuffing his face, surrounded with toys, playing, dressed up in various costumes and outfits and his family members were never very far away. In fact there wasn't even a single photograph of himself alone, he was always in someone's lap, being cuddled, carried or kissed.

Nothing he remembered even contradicted the impression he got from the photos. Not a single moment. He wanted to believe it. Wanted it so much he could practically taste it, but he wasn't going to allow himself to believe it until he had the confirmation from the wards he had placed around the family home and temple that his family members were magic free, tamper-free.

He wasn't a naive little kid anymore.

Takeru took a brief moment to close down the browser he was using and logged himself out of the computer. He was done with research. He wouldn't be able to find out anything more from the internet, nothing useful at any rate. What was he going to do with himself in the hours between now and whenever his family decided that they were going to go home? All he needed was for them to cross the threshold of the ward. Then again who knew how long that would take? Might as well set himself up for a good stake-out. He wasn't too far away, if he could find a building that had a room with a good view then a notice-me-not charm and his invisibility cloak would be all he needed to keep out of sight. He could spell his map of Tokyo to connect with the wards he'd set up to give him the names of the people who crossed the threshold.

Hibari Satoshi, his father. Hibari Yun, his mother. Hibari Kyouya, his older brother. Those were the names he was looking for. If he felt magic flare off the wards while any of them were on the property then he had all the answers he'd need. If he didn't… he was going to have to figure out how to proceed from there because he didn't have a plan. Refused to plan for the possibility just in case it didn't happen. He wasn't setting himself up for disappointment. He was done with disappointment. Might as well set himself up for something good for once. He wanted to know what it was like to be pleasantly surprised.

He stepped out of the internet café with a new purpose, taking a moment to duck into the alleyway outside Takeru spelled the map of Namimori and studied it for a minute. It would work, he was certain of it. Once-upon-a-forgotten time he'd looked up the spells on the Marauder's Map, the spell that gave names to the people walking through a specific ward was one of the simplest spells he knew. Tying it into a specific ward was a little tricky but doable.

Finished with spelling the map he folded it back into his pocket so he'd be ready to take it back out to look at as soon as he felt anyone cross the boundaries of the wards. He was going to be playing the Waiting Game now. Might as well stock up for it. Scanning the street Takeru spotted a convenience store and slipped inside, picked up a basket and started wandering around the store. He didn't know if it was the healing Yuuko had given him or the cleansing ceremony but he was hungry now, nearly all the time. Every time he stopped to think about it? He was hungry. He hoped it was a sign of a growth spurt in the works because he really didn't like being a good head shorter than he felt he should be.

Staring at the overly large selection Takeru didn't know where to start, should he just start tossing whatever caught his attention into the basket and hope for the best? Cause he had no idea what most of what he was looking at was and felt a little lost. Were most of these supposed to be snacks?

"What are you just standing there staring for?" An irritated voice grumbled from somewhere behind him. "If you're going to get something hurry up and get something, don't just stand there like an idiot."

Takeru turned to the speaker, a tall boy with pale skin and jaw length shaggy silver hair. He was handsome, or rather, he would have been if not for the massive scowl of irritation and boredom on his face. He wore a lot of alternative/gothic styled jewellery that Takeru had seen worn by a lot of teenagers around London, rings, bracelets, necklaces, even earrings though they were small clips and he didn't think they were piercings. A faint perfume of cigarette smoke hung off his clothing like a shroud, even the orange and white apron with a smiling blue name-tag pinned to it reeked of the cancer sticks. He was holding a box of products he clearly intended to put on the shelves he was standing in front of.

Ignoring the smell and very carefully not wrinkling his nose up at it, he had a feeling the other boy wouldn't take very kindly to any perceived insult, Takeru picked a can up off the shelf and turned it so the teenager could see the label. "Is this for real or is this a joke product?" He asked with a grin, unable to help it from slipping onto his face.

"Hah?" The boy asked, head tilting to the side, squinting and then pulling out a pair of glasses from a pocket. Sliding them onto his face the boy's half-irritated scowl melted away to be replaced by bewildered surprise. "Sea chicken?"

"What do you reckon it means? Is it chicken that tastes like the sea? Sea salt chicken?" Takeru laughed as he picked up another can off the shelf so he could read the rest of the label. Oil preserved 'Sea Chicken' with salt. Yeah, that sounded informative. Not.

"How did I not notice this before?" The teenager asked, boggling at the can in his hand and then reaching forward to the shelf to see if the other cans were the same. "I've been working here for weeks already and this is the first time I've noticed…"

"Well you do need glasses to read." Takeru pointed out helpfully, biting back his laughter. "If you don't know what it is… I'm buying it. I want to know." Takeru said as he headed over to the front counter, pulling his wallet out.

Handing the can over to the clerk Takeru paid for it and reached for a pair of chopsticks, probably meant for the take-away food, he peeled back the lid of the can, stared at the contents and poked at it uncertainly. It… didn't LOOK like chicken. It didn't even smell like chicken. In fact it kind of looked like…

"This tastes like tuna." Takeru muttered around the chopsticks in his mouth.

"Bullshit." the silver haired teenager said, apparently having abandoned his work to follow him out from between the shelves, probably just as curious as he had been over what was in the can.

"Here, try it and see for yourself if you don't believe me." he said, offering it to the other boy.

The teenager hesitated before reaching out to take the chopsticks from him, it wasn't long before he was goggling at the open can in disbelief. "It IS tuna. What the hell?"

Takeru eyed the shelves. "I wonder if they have anything else that's weird."

OoO

He didn't know how long he spent in the convenience store. He just knew that he'd probably spent that whole time practically falling all over himself with laughter. The innocent can of 'Sea Chicken' had turned out to be the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it came to weirdly named Japanese food products. There was something on practically every shelf with a stupid or highly inappropriate name, even in the drinks section! Then there were the crazy flavours and weird shapes.

The silver haired teenager wasn't any better off, if anything he looked like he was close to collapsing with how hard he laughing, even as he tried to stifle it. He'd also seemingly completely forgotten he was supposed to be working and had joined in on the hunt for weirdly named food.

And boy did they find some 'interesting' names.

There was 'Special Gunpowder China Green Tea', 'The Jew's Ear Juice' and 'Urinal Hot Drink' in the tea section. 'Pocari Sweat' and the even more gag-worthy 'Pet Sweat' complete with a picture of a dog on the label in the drinks section. 'Hot Bowel Rice' competed with 'Soup For Sluts' and 'Cock Flavour Soup' with the unfortunately named 'Crotch Steamed Fish' dubbed the worst of the lot in the ready-made food section. In the snacks section there was 'Shrimp Flavoured Crack', a packet of chocolate biscuits that "May Contain Traces Of Peanuts And Human Flesh' and a bag of crackers and mixed nuts that also had what looked like dried sardines mixed into it. The ice cream section wasn't that surprising, he'd had previous experience with weird flavoured ice-cream from his time in the wizarding world, but even he had to admit that 'Beef Tongue', 'Horse Flesh' and 'Chicken Wings' weren't exactly dessert material.

He was in the middle of wheezing over the can of 'Quaker Ginko Semen Formula' with the silver haired shop assistant looking ready to pass out from hilarity when the wards he'd placed over the Hibari family home and temple pinged. Someone had finally crossed the threshold of the wards. Feeling almost like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over the fun he'd been having Takeru froze, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Finally he was going to get the answers he needed.

Putting the can of oatmeal back on the shelf he turned and smiled at the teen standing next to him, who had stopped laughing when he had, and tried to keep his face straight and voice level. "Wow, what time is it? I totally meant to just duck in and out." he remarked, trying to ignore the quick flash of dismay that crossed the other teenager's face as he made a show of looking around for a time piece but then actually reeling back when he realized it had gotten fully dark outside.

Slipping a hand into his pocket Takeru wavered, wanting to pull out the map to check it. Whoever had entered hadn't left yet, had actually entered into the wards through the Temple entrance so it really could be anyone. Bending down to pick up the basket he'd filled he backed away from the confused teenager he'd been laughing with just a few seconds ago and hastily made his way over to the counter to pay for the things he'd dropped into the basket. He knew at least half of it was the oddly named snacks he'd picked up but there was enough there to last him for the night. He'd go shopping again in the morning, good thing he had picked up some ready-made meals, he didn't think he had the patience to pick anything else out right now.

Pausing only long enough to wave a good bye to the silver haired teenager Takeru forced himself not to snatch the bags holding the things he'd bought and left as soon as he had a good grip on them.

"Wait! Your change!" the cashier called out to him in alarm as he bolted, hurrying around to the other side of the counter.

Takeru ignored the call, he didn't need the change. He needed to know who had crossed the wards and he needed to know now. Ducking into the first alleyway he came across he hastily dumped everything into his satchel and pulled his map out of his pocket. Flicking his wand out of a holster he lit the tip and searched out the family Temple, enlarging the area he was looking at to read it more clearly.

The name of the person who had crossed the wards… was Yun Hibari. That was his mother.

Takeru muttered the counter-spell that dimmed his wand he then pointed his wand at his feet. When he'd been preparing for the Tri-wizard Tournament he'd read up on numerous movement-spells that had been hugely popular before Portkeys and apparition had been invented. Forget traversing the streets to find his way back to the temple. He was going to take the quickest route he knew! He'd be able to spot the temple easier from the rooftops anyway, the tall red posts at the base of the temple stairs would easily be visible from a distance. He didn't have a broom anymore and he didn't know how to apparate… that was fine. He could just jump his way there!

"_Tripudio."_

The spell formed pale gold wings at his ankles and had him at the rooftops in an instant. Stumbling a little as he landed Takeru took in the skyline and grimaced when he realized that he would be in full-view of anyone looking out their windows, he was lucky the sun had gone down already! Thankfully he had a solution for the off-chance someone spotted him anyway. Pulling the invisibility cloak out of his pocket he swung it up and around him and made sure the hood was pulled up over his head as he took off, he needed to check the temple before anyone else crossed the wards!

OoO

Gokudera Hayato didn't really give much thought to the customer who had wandered into the section of the supermarket he'd been attempting to restock, he merely grit his teeth in irritation when the boy wandered up aisle and planted himself directly in front of the shelf he had meant to start filling. After a few minutes waiting for the idiot to wander off his patience snapped.

"What are you just standing there staring for?" he grit out irritably through clenched teeth. "If you're going to get something hurry up and get something, don't just stand there like an idiot."

Instead of the expected reaction, hell he'd have snapped back at anyone speaking to him in that tone of voice, the other boy merely grinned as he turned around.

"Is this for real or is this a joke product?"

Blue eyes. Bright blue. Hayato blinked and tore his attention away from them at the question and glanced down at the can the boy was holding. Joke product?

"Hah?" he asked, tilting his head and squinting even as he slipped a hand into the pocket of his apron, the other reaching out to accept the can. Wishing he hadn't inherited his father's far-sightedness he slipped his glasses on to read the label. He had to lug the spectacles everywhere he went and they were stupidly fragile, he was forever forgetting where he'd last put them and he couldn't even remember exactly how many times he'd stepped, sat on, dropped or just plain broken them.

The one thing he had to inherit from his father and it had to be the most irritating… "Sea Chicken?" he read aloud as the letters solidified into legible words now that he'd put his glasses on.

"What do you reckon it means? Is it chicken that tastes like the sea? Sea salt chicken?" the blue eyed boy asked as he picked up another can off the shelf to read the label. He seemed not to realize that he'd started speaking in English, effortlessly slipping into the language.

He stared at the innocent looking can in his hand, absently replying in the same language. "How did I not notice this before? I've been working here for weeks already and this is the first time I've noticed…" the really stupid name?

"Well you do need glasses to read." The kid excused for him. "If you don't know what it is… I'm buying it. I want to know."

Giving in to his curiosity Hayato abandoned the boxes of cans he was supposed to be shelving and followed him where he paid for the dubiously labelled can and was now in the process of tasting the contents. "This tastes like tuna." The kid muttered around the chopsticks still in his mouth.

"Bullshit." he said, the can said clearly said chicken, not tuna!

"Here, try it and see for yourself if you don't believe me." The boy replied, hands clumsily offering the chopsticks over to him.

He hesitated to take them for a moment. The kid had already used them, it would be swapping saliva however small it was, practically indirect kissing. Guh, the fuck was he thinking? They were just fucking chopsticks and clearly HE wasn't thinking about it like that. He needed to get his head out of the gutter! He pushed the thought aside and took the chopsticks, grabbed a chunk of the 'sea chicken' and popped it into his mouth before he could back out.

"It IS tuna. What the hell?" staring down at the open can in disbelief.

"I wonder if they have anything else that's weird." The kid said as he headed back into the shelves to start a search of the store, bringing to his attention the hilarity he had missed out on by not wearing his glasses as he stocked the shelves these past few weeks. For fucks sake how had he missed the Pocari Sweat? The bottles of sports drink were practically in his face with the blue and white label and he hadn't even noticed them in the whole time he'd been in Japan! Hell, he was even sure he'd even bought a bottle or two in the past and hadn't noticed.

That was embarrassing, here he was already a few weeks into working at the place and he hadn't even noticed where this kid had done so pretty much the second he'd walked in. He clearly needed his observational skills kicked into a higher gear if he was missing details like this! He was certainly going to be looking forward to future shifts if he'd found this much entertainment in the short time he'd finally started paying attention to the shelves.

Speaking of observational skills, how observant was this kid? Instantly picking up on something most people would look over?

Glossy jet-black hair that was mostly hidden under a sports hat, bright blue eyes and a warm smile. He was sure he'd seen someone similar in looks before the kid had walked into the shop but couldn't think of where he'd seen that face before. He was around the same height as Juudaime or maybe even a hair's breadth shorter with a frame even thinner than his boss's, one that made him look like a stray gust of wind might blow him away.

They were in the middle of laughing over a particularly tasteless name in the breakfast section when the kid abruptly stopped laughing, bodily freezing in place as if listening for a sound no one else could hear. Blue eyes clouded and frosted over in an instant, staring sightlessly through the can of oats he'd been laughing over like it wasn't even there and focusing through it instead. Then when the kid looked up again the smile was no longer warm. It was cold. Cold and impersonal. It was like the kid had replaced himself with an automaton, stiff and unnatural.

"Wow, what time is it? I totally meant to just duck in and out." The kid forced out, clearly looking for an excuse to duck out, face tight with impatience under the polite mask he'd slipped onto his face.

The niggling sense that he'd seen him somewhere before strengthened at the look that had crossed the kid's face in that brief moment before the he'd pulled on that poker face but he still couldn't place it. The other boy was clearly someone completely unused to the country, what with the way he reacted to the food. That coupled with the way he had slipped into English mid-conversation and the British accent he'd put money on the other boy having been raised somewhere in England.

He hadn't seen that face anywhere in Italy, that was something he was sure of, and he'd never been to England so where… ?

"Wait, your change!"

Hayato snapped out of his musings and frowned after the boy as he practically flew out of the store, approaching the counter he wondered what had the kid in such a rush. "How much did he leave behind?" he asked the manager gruffly, curious despite himself.

"T… this much…" the man stuttered, eyes wide in disbelief as he held out the fistful of notes the kid had ditched.

He gaped. "What the fuck did he pay with? A ten thousand yen note?" he asked incredulously as he held out a hand. "Idiot! He probably has no idea what it's worth! Give it here, I'll go catch up with him!"

The manager all but waved him out of the store, practically throwing the money at him and hastily whipping his hands away when he snatched up the change. He darted out of the store after the idiot who had paid for snacks with enough money to buy what he'd bought a hundred times over and ditched the change for what seemed to be no other reason than impatience.

The kid had been okay, warm and smiling one minute but then frigidly cold for seemingly no reason. What would do that to a kid? He had seemed so normal walking in, relaxed even. Was he… perhaps being chased? Was he with the mafia? Had he recognized who he'd been talking to? He did have a reputation in the Mafia… but no, there had been no recognition in those eyes, which was another thing he was sure of.

Catching sight of the kid as he ducked into an alley nearly a block over Hayato cursed, the kid was stupidly fast! How had he gotten all the way over there so quickly? Nearly getting run over by a passing motorist he wasted a few cathartic minutes shouting at the driver, "Who gave you your fucking license you dipshit!" before following.

He ended up staring at an empty alley.

What? But this was a dead end! Where did…?

A shadow flickered across the alleyway floor and out of sight, making him look up the sheer wall for the source. Just in time to catch a glimpse of a purple and blue sneaker flit out of sight, translucent gold wing attached to the skinny ankle of the wearer and the trailing edge of a shimmering silver cloth.

Hayato felt his brain break into a million pieces and explode into fizzing and sparkling confetti, he felt his knees fold out underneath him and didn't fight it, glee spiraling wildly through him. He let himself fall forward to the ground in a controlled drop, knowing that he was going to fall over anyway whether he fought it or not and felt a wide ear-to-ear grin wrap around his face as his vision darkened. He'd met an alien. He could die.

He never made it back to the convenience store that night. Instead, he was found passed out face down in the alleyway half an hour later by his half-worried/half-terrified manager right where he'd dropped, dead to the world and still clutching the money he'd meant to return to kid he'd chased after.

OoO

Takeru landed lightly on the red doorway-like structure that sat at the base of the stairs leading up to the Hibari family temple and home. It hadn't taken him very long to get used to the strange buoyancy to his steps and it had taken him even less time to figure out how to move without falling over himself or face-first into the streets. Moving like this felt effortless, like he could have been born with the wings at his ankles, like he could have been doing this his entire life.

Even as he let the effects of the spell fade he didn't lose that feeling of complete balance he'd landed with, instead it stayed with him as he walked across the top beam of the 'doorway' to the temple. It was almost like the height steadied his nerves, calmed him down in ways that wouldn't have reached him with his feet on solid ground.

It tasted like freedom.

Takeru tightened his grip on the invisibility cloak as it tried to lift off his shoulders, a small gust of wind threatening to pull it off his shoulders as it picked up the flaring edges of the trailing fabric. He was lucky it was so dark, it should be hard to spot him if someone were to look up. He stared down at the temple and wondered if could risk lighting his wand to check the map for the names, at least five more people had crossed the threshold of the wards in the time it had taken for him to leave the convenience store.

There were two other people in the house now aside from his mother, a third person leaving the house and two others who had stayed near the shrine. Deciding the information would be worth the risk of someone catching a glimpse of what little of him that could be seen from underneath the invisibility cloak Takeru shifted the cloak so that the map was completely blanketed by it and lifted his wand.

"_Lumos"_

The names of the people outside the house were Tetsuya Kusakabe, Haruki Touno and Jun Kunosuke. None of those names meant anything to him except for maybe the first as someone mentioned on the internet as a member of the neighborhood watch program his brother participated in. The other two must be more members. None of the three had any traces of magic on them whatsoever, lingering or otherwise. He immediately dismissed them as unimportant and focused on the people who had entered the house.

Satoshi Hibari, Kyouya Hibari and Yun Hibari. All three were inside the house, he wasn't going to get a better opportunity than this to find out if Dumbledore, or anyone, had magically tampered with his family.

"_Nox."_ He whispered, tucking the map away back into his pocket. He pointed his wand back down to his feet and fired off two more spells. _"Silencio." "Tripudio"_

He waited until the three other people, teenagers with some very strange hairstyles, left the temple grounds and jumped the distance from the tall red 'doorway' to the temple roof, landing so silently that even he hadn't heard himself. He leaped to the opposite side of the temple in a single step and jumped again, this time traversing the distance between the temple and the family home before he could second-guess himself.

He held his breath as he landed, folding down into a neat crouch and steadied himself with his left hand braced on the roof tiles, heart beating a mile a minute. He'd done it. Gotten this close without being detected or chickening out. Pushed his luck this far to get the information he needed. If someone had tampered with his parents then he'd be in a world of danger being this close to them, especially if whatever spells left behind in them they were triggered to react to his presence.

He wished he could risk silencing himself with the same spell that prevented his feet from making any noise without rendering himself mute and helpless. He knew silent casting was a thing but he didn't know that worked and he didn't want to risk having to slink back to Yuuko's just to have a self-cast spell removed. She'd probably laugh at him, hell he'd laugh at himself.

That didn't stop him from wishing he could silence himself. He felt like he was breathing through a particularly thin straw and his heart was hammering loudly in his ears, beating a staccato rhythm that felt like it could be heard miles away. Calm. He needed to calm down. How was he supposed to feel for magical residue in the state he was in? Breathe. He just needed to breathe.

Sitting himself down on the lip of the roof, almost in the same spot he'd been earlier in the day, Takeru holstered his wand and rested his trembling hands on his knees. He flexed his fingers and resisted the urge to crack his knuckles to relieve the tension, (he didn't exactly want to be making noise right now!), and rolled his shoulders. Relax. He needed to relax.

How had he let it get so dark without noticing? He'd fully intended on darting in and out of that convenience store, that trip had just meant to be a pit-stop for food but instead… he'd forgotten about everything. He'd been blindsided by a badly named can of tuna and had then proceeded to waste time he could have spent staking out his family by laughing himself stupid over food.

Culture Shock? He certainly hadn't expected himself to fall for it quite so easily, Japan was weird compared to England.

Feeling his heart-rate and breathing ease at the direction his thoughts had taken Takeru allowed himself to take a few slow, deep breaths. He was about as relaxed as he was going to get without finding somewhere isolated to unwind so it was about time he got his answers. He closed his eyes he spread his senses out and down into the house, searching for any trace of magic in the house-hold.

He could feel his own magic wash off himself in waves, flowing off from where he was sitting on the roof and flaring out in every direction. He felt Shuu and the egg in his pocket, (both of them siphoning off small streams of the magic flaring off of him), and the wand holster and bag on his wrist, his wand felt like a glowing bar of heat to his senses. He felt the wards he had left and some residue in the garden, footprints across the path he had taken to get to the roof earlier in the day. God he really was leaking magic everywhere he went wasn't he? Grimacing at the idea Takeru brushed aside the thought and concentrated on the individuals he should be sensing inside the house but wasn't.

Magically speaking the house was empty.

Unfolding from his seated position on the roof Takeru hesitated, he had confirmed the lack of magic inside the house but… he wasn't absolutely sure he had confirmed the lack of it on the people in the house. He needed to confirm it with his own two eyes. See with his eyes what his senses were telling him, that the house wasn't empty of people as well as magic.

He forgot that his feet were still spelled with the jump spell when he slipped down from the roof but was reminded almost instantly as he bounced right back up to roof height because he'd forgotten he was still powering the spell. He managed to keep himself upright by grabbing hold of the railing he had used earlier in the day to boost himself up onto the roof and spent a few wild minutes flailing before he righted himself.

He was pretty sure he'd just shaved a few years off of his life with the scare he'd given himself just then. He was so not going to introduce himself to his family by getting caught spying on their house! Unpeeling himself from his support he straightened and swallowed, realizing that he was either going to have to step rather lightly if he didn't want to bounce through the roof or let the spell go.

He was glad the silencing charm was a one-hit spell that didn't require constant upkeep, it lasted for hours unless you hit it with the counter or cancelling-charm. He could let go of Tripudio without dispelling the silencing charm, thank god it wasn't in the same class of spells, if the jump spell had required a cancelling charm he'd have been stuck bouncing around trying not to draw attention to himself.

He didn't see anyone when he peered through the first window and the next two windows as he padded silently across the walkway around the house, it was when he got to the fourth window that he saw any signs of life from inside the house and he shocked himself into a standstill. There were two people in the room, two adults. One male and the other female. Swallowing against the sudden thickness in his throat Takeru pulled his map out silently and checked it, using the light coming in from said window to read the names of the couple speaking softly to each other.

Satoshi Hibari. Yun Hibari. These… were his parents.

He felt his skin break out into goose bumps and shivered. He was so close that all he would have to do to get their attention was make a small noise and both of them would turn around and look at him. Closing his eyes against the urge Takeru calmed himself down and stretched his senses forward, at this range he really couldn't mistake it, his parents were clean of magic, they didn't even have so much as a whisper of it clinging to them at all.

The sheer, overwhelming sense of relief left him sagging against the wall with his throat tight and his eyes stinging. Whatever had happened, however it had happened, his parents hadn't been in on it.

Something slammed.

Takeru had never been the type to scream when scared and over the years he'd learned that he was either prone to the flight of fight response. So when the sliding door practically an arm's length away from him slammed open he didn't verbalize the mental scream, instead he froze into stock-standstill in shock, very much the deer in the headlights. Which was lucky for him otherwise the frowning teenager staring out into the darkness could very well have caught him spying on the house, cloak or no cloak. It wouldn't have been difficult to pin-point the source of the kind of scream he had locked away behind his teeth.

"Kyouya? What are you doing?" heard his mother ask over the screaming in his head.

"I thought I heard something..." the teenager replied, his voice low and threating. "… must have been my imagination." He finished, half lidded eyes making a sweep of his surroundings before the air of threatening danger dissipated from the air, abruptly breaking apart when his brother yawned widely. "… I'm going to bed."

"Busy day tomorrow?" Takeru heard his mother speak up again.

"Herbivores to bite. They come out in herds after the week ends." His brother sneered, stepping back into the house and punctuating the remark by soundly closing the sliding door behind him with a sharp snap. The sound speared through Takeru and sent him sliding slowly down the wall feeling a little like a puppet with his strings cut as he lost the ability to keep standing.

Feeling very much like he wanted to melt into a quivering pile of mush at having the living daylights scared out of him, he rubbed a jittery hand across his face. Well, that had been one way to find out his brother hadn't been tampered with. His brother wouldn't have gotten anywhere near that close to him without being noticed if he'd been touched by any sort of magic, he'd have been able to sense him long before he'd gotten to the door otherwise.

His family was free of magic. That meant they hadn't been tampered with magically, that they'd been just as much victims of his kidnapping as he had been. He didn't know how to feel about that, or he did and he didn't know how to deal with it. He wanted to laugh, scream and cry all at the same time. He wanted to open the door his brother had just closed and… do what?

He needed to, at the very least, take a step back to think things through, maybe even do a sweep of the neighborhood for any dormant traps. The house and temple had so far been magic-free but what about the surrounding houses? The shops? The school his brother attended? At least he'd been able to check out the hospital, however distracted he'd been at the time he'd have been able to sense any magic had it been anywhere within range of him.

One thing he planned on may as well be set in stone though as far as planning went. He wasn't going to take a single step towards meeting his family without making sure it was safe to do so, both for his sake and theirs. He was this close, he didn't want to ruin things for himself by rushing like an idiot.

Forcing his wobbly limbs into cooperation Takeru got himself to his feet and slipped away from the house. He was already this wired up, might as well take advantage of the darkness to look around without being noticed.

OoO

Working his way around the neighborhood focused on finding any trace of magic was exhausting. He bounced from rooftop to rooftop in the area, pausing only long enough to check the area before jumping away, he had to have searched miles in every direction and he still hadn't found anything. Well, nothing that he hadn't accidentally leaked just by being there.

Dropping down from the roof tops, making sure it was somewhere out of sight, he tucked the invisibility cloak back into his satchel and left the alley to sit himself down on the first bench he came across, fanning his face. Tripudio was a hard spell to keep running, it had barely been ten minutes into searching and he's was about ready to fall on his face. Pulling his jacket off Takeru shook it out and draped it over his shoulders rather than put his arms back through the sleeves and hoped the air would pick up again. He was uncomfortably warm and the cool air should help cool him down.

Reaching into his satchel Takeru pulled out a rice ball, (salmon flavoured), and peeled the wrapping off. He eyed it thoughtfully for a moment, wondering what the green wrapping was, and peeled off a piece, tasted it, deemed it edible and then proceeded to wolf it down. Deciding that he had very much liked that one he reached for another rice ball, (tuna flavoured this time) and wished he'd bought a drink while he'd been at the convenience store. Picking himself up off the bench he meandered on over to a nearby vending machine and reached for his wallet. Momentarily holding the new rice ball by its packaging in his teeth as he started rummaging through the contents of his wallet. He was sure that he had at least a few coins left over from when he'd bought his ticket for the train into Namimori...

Fishing a few out he folded his wallet back into his pocket and caught his rice ball in his left. He peeled away the edges its plastic wrapper, not unlike peeling a banana, and bit into it as he scanned the selection of drinks, unwillingly snorting in amusement when he spotted 'Pocari Sweat' among the selections. How a drink like that had even gotten past the production stage with that name was truly a mystery. Unwilling to taste it he settled on a can of coca cola and paid for it, he needed the sugar right now, the extra energy was sorely needed right about now.

He wolfed down half of the second rice ball in the time it took for the machine to dispense his drink and in the time it took for him to figure out how to collect the thing, (you had to lift open a flap, go figure) he'd already finished it. The drink was a welcome relief against the itch of thirst tickling the back of his throat and he spent a few minutes draining the can almost dry before he came back up for air. Leaning back on his heels Takeru stared at the can in his hand, watching the bubbles of the drink fizz and pop around the lip of the can and wondered what he was going to do with himself now that he'd come this far. What was he supposed to do now? How exactly was he supposed to proceed?

There was no way he had enough courage to just walk up to the house and introduce himself, he was at a complete loss for what he should do. He'd found out that neither of his parents were magic in any way, they hadn't even been tampered with magically at all, the same with his brother. The house and its surroundings were clean, the only traces of lingering magic were fresh and matched his own signature.

A crashing sound to his left almost had him leaping out of his skin, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the nearly empty can of cola in his hand was the fact that his hand had clamped down on the thing instead. Whipping his head around in the direction the noise had come from Takeru felt his heart sink a little at the sight of a sizable group of thugs rounding the corner of the street. The crashing noise had been the sound of one of the rough looking men slamming a metal baseball bat into a trash-can, spilling it and its contents across the footpath.

"…goddamned Disciplinary Committee!" the man griped as he yanked the scuffed baseball bat out of the now-dented bin, the man then kicked the debris across the street. "Even with that fucking brat off braiding his hair or whatever the fuck he gets up to when he's not actively hunting us and he's got his underlings crawling around everywhere like cockroaches!"

Takeru eyed the group, taking in the others with baseball bats, the knives not-so-subtly tucked into waistbands and the sword strapped to one of the men's backs. This was like looking at Dudley's gang through the goggles of about ten years and displaced a few countries and races. He knew the behavior, these guys were pissed off about something, pissed off and looking for a target. All he would have to do right now was give them the excuse and they'd come right at him…

Stepping to the side so that he was no longer standing directly under the street light he carefully lowered his almost empty can of soft drink into the bin. Maybe if he was quiet enough he'd be able to get away before they even noticed he was even ther-

He froze as a clank seemed to echo into the night, the sound of the recently-placed can of soft drink shifting in the bin to bounce further in.

Goddamn it. This was just his kind of luck.

Takeru didn't bother trying to negotiate. He didn't want to waste the time, these guys wouldn't listen to him, they were cut from the same cloth Dudley was. They wanted their fun, they wanted their stress relief and they were going to take it out of his hide now that they'd locked on him as a target.

He started running instead, enraged howls following at his heels.

"Hi-Hi-HIBARI – GET'IM! GET THE BASTARD! KILL'IM!"

A small part of him that wasn't busy thinking up ways to get away from the group of overgrown bullies pondered over how they had recognized him so fast and wondered if his family would be as quick to do the same.

OoO

Police Detective Hibari Minoru knew he was in for a long shift when he walked into the Police Station and immediately saw what had to be almost the entirety of Namimori's more prominent Yakuza clans in attendance, cuffed to every available chair and desk in the office as they awaited processing. The Momokyokai were in every stage of bandaged and bruised with most separated as far away from each other as they could be. There was a growing pile of weapons already tagged and bagged for evidence with more being processed as he watched and a snickering group of officers in a corner of the office reading over what looked like reports.

"Kyouya." He cursed, gritting his teeth and kneading his forehead as he headed directly for the coffee machine, not caring in the slightest if he stomped on a few feet to get where he was going. His nephew was going to be the death of him. What was he even doing out so late? He was supposed to be in bed at this time of night! He snagged a paper cup out of the dispenser and poured himself a cup, glaring fit to set the peculator on fire as he poured himself a cup. He was going to need all the caffeine he was going to get to deal with this.

Stalking over to the group of snickering idiots in the corner and 'accidentally' kicking a few Yakuza's legs out of his path Minoru decided to cut straight to the point. "Okay, give it to me in the least headache inducing way possible."

"Give you what?"

"Kyouya." He clarified sourly, gritting his teeth against the urge to kick the speaker into the right mental gear, someone was acting slow today. "What did he do this time? Also where did you put the little hell-raiser? You usually have him cuffed to my desk whenever he does this…"

One of his co-workers coughed, hiding a laugh behind her hand. "Ah, this wasn't Kyouya." The woman clarified, obviously struggling to keep her mirth under control. Urgh, this must be a new recruit, there was absolutely nothing funny about the paperwork this stunt was guaranteed to generate.

"The Disciplinary Committee then. Are they in the holding cells already?"

"That's the thing, this wasn't Kyouya or any of his guys. This was all another kid and he didn't even lay a finger on these guys, all he did was dodge. By all accounts these guys beat themselves up trying to hit him."

Minoru felt the irritation lift off his shoulders at that and let himself relax, if Kyouya wasn't responsible then that was less paperwork and files he had to deal with. "… wait. One kid did all this?" he questioned, motioning to the sorry sight the Momokyokai members made as they sat either sulking in their chairs, glaring at each other or sitting on tender-hooks trying to keep off their injuries.

"Yup!" another co-worker clarified, handing over a few reports. "Take a look at these."

He skimmed the reports, stopping at various portions in sheer disbelief. "He was faster than an oiled cat?"

His co-workers snickered.

"Interesting." Minoru murmured as he shifted through the various reports. "Where did you put him? I don't see any 'slippery eels' or 'greased pigs' anywhere in here." Just Momokyokai Yakuza, all of whom were well over eighteen, every report indicated a teen near or younger than his nephew...

"We've got him in interrogation room one. We had to separate him from everyone else to stop the fighting, the Momokyokai mistook him for your nephew. They got off lightly, only three of their members got carted off to hospital, one of the idiots was carrying a sharpened katana around. Kyouya-kun would have had them ALL hospitalized."

Minoru held back a wince at that, if Kyouya heard about this incident that may actually end up happening, the idiot brat had all sorts of ideas about Namimori and it's supposed 'atmosphere.'. "Interrogation room one? Alright, lead the way. I'm curious as to what an 'oiled cat' looks like." He smirked, handing the reports back to his laughing co-workers and following sedately behind them, actually taking the time to enjoy the coffee he'd poured for himself.

"God, he's so young…" someone exclaimed softly, apparently seeing him for the first time as well.

Minoru barely heard it, fixated as he was on the teenager sitting in the other room. He hadn't gotten a good look at the kid until he was right in front of the two-way mirror that separated the observation room from the interrogation room, but now…

Sleek, jet-black hair. Bright blue eyes. Thin-bladed nose and high cheekbones. This was a face he had been dreaming about for the last eleven years.

Nerveless fingers lost hold of the coffee cup he was holding and police officers exclaimed in surprise and shock as it hit the floor. He didn't care.

He'd found Takeru.

OoO

Chapter end.

God I feel like this chapter sucked out my SOUL. I feel dizzy and drained and did I mention dizzy? Literally cant type another word right now so I feel like this is a good place to stop. Cause my eyes are literally crossing.

So yeah. Namimori, glimpse of the Hibari family and a promise of reunion in the next chapter. Yay. Have fun reading it, I had fun writing it.


	10. Chapter 10

Hibari Satoshi spent a lot of time in his car upon returning to Namimori. Mostly with his forehead resting on the steering wheel and eyes unable to look away from the printed photograph in his hand. It had taken him a while to gather the willpower to return home, to leave Fon in Tokyo to continue the search. It hadn't been easy but he knew he didn't have the resources available to track Takeru, not even with the entirety of the detectives in his Agency working with him. Fon had contacts he didn't have, resources he couldn't even dream about. An ex-cop turned private detective really couldn't hold a candle to an active member of the Traid.

"Goddamn it." he cursed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. How was he going to tell Yun he'd found their son only to have him slip out of his fingers like so much smoke? The boy in the photo… really couldn't be anyone else. The shape of the eyes was all him, though the colour was Yun's. Actually everything save the shape of those incredible eyes was his mother all over.

And he was thin.

Satoshi couldn't help it. He was a father. He looked at the way Takeru's clothes fit, the size and shape of the hands, the thinness to his face and something in him turned to ice. Kyouya had never been that thin. It wasn't enough that whoever had taken his son had ripped him away from his only family but to not even treat him like the treasure he so obviously was…

There had been times during those early years in the kidnapping where he'd thought that whoever had taken his son had taken him to love him. Kidnapped a child because for whatever reason 'they' couldn't have one of their own. An idealistic hope born from the desperate wish that Takeru was alive and not killed by someone connected to his wife's former occupation or familial relations. Or even someone connected to any of the cases he'd worked on in his career as a police officer. That was equally as likely.

Now that he had, (somewhat solid), proof that his son was alive he was driving himself insane over the possibilities. Who'd had him? Where had he been living all this time? Where was he now? He had information that Takeru had somehow snuck his way into the country but he didn't know how or why.

Satoshi tried to pull himself back together, if his wife saw him like this she'd see through him instantly. It would only take one concerned look from her and he'd be pouring his heart out. He'd long since lost whatever resistance he had towards that look, (not that he'd had much in the first place), and he didn't want to just drop the news in her lap.

She'd disappear again, like she had during whole mistaken identity mess. Yun had taken that information, reached out to her older brother and had vanished for a good three months. At the time he'd thought she'd left him, he'd spent those months half out of his mind with grief over losing her only to have her return as abruptly as she had left, utterly convinced the child mistaken as theirs wasn't Takeru.

He'd been so relieved he'd almost broken down right there in front of her. He'd lost his son, he couldn't lose Yun or Kyouya. It would destroy him. Of course the former hit-woman had been confused over his relief and absolutely puzzled over his 'over-reaction'. She'd had no idea why he'd ever think she'd left him and had looked at him as if HE was the one that was making no sense when he tried to explain it. Even Kyouya had looked at him like he'd grown another head when he'd finished and called him a herbivore, as if he could follow his mother's thought-process in a way Satoshi himself had never been able to and have it all make sense.

"Why wouldn't I come back? It was so hard seducing you! Why would I ruin all my hard work?" she'd asked, wholly uncomprehending of what it had looked like from his side of the fence. Huffing out a laugh that was half amusement and half pain Satoshi knuckled his forehead. Okay, thinking about that time wasn't really helping him pull himself together, it was only giving him a headache.

Honestly what else should he have expected of the former hit-woman? No matter that she'd 'retired' from the lifestyle the day she met him, she was still the same woman who had decided to introduce herself to him via the balcony window of his hotel room. Holding the scruff of the terrified serial killer he'd spent the last two weeks hunting down to boot. He'd still been on the police force at the time, part of a task-force put together to track down the man Yun had so effortlessly been dangling over the edge of the balcony she'd been so delicately balanced on.

He'd taken a break to drop into his room, shower and grab a change of clothes before heading back out, only to be caught flatfooted and fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel when he'd realized he had an audience. He'd frozen somewhere between shock and confusion. Some lunatic was on the balcony railing. The VERY rickety railing. For a long moment his eyes bugged out as he processed that no, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him and yes, that WAS the serial killer he and his taskforce had been hunting for. Yes, the woman BALANCING ON HIS BALCONY WINDOW really was holding said serial killer by the scruff and was also not-so-subtly appreciating the view. Of him. In only his towel.

He simultaneously wanted to grab his gun and secure the serial killer, arrest the nutcase ogling him from the balcony, grab his clothes and Get. Dressed. He'd wanted to go find a rock somewhere and crawl under it for being caught so off guard and then bury himself for good measure at being caught nearly naked at the same time.

"Hi. You were looking for him right?" Yun had asked, oh-so-effortlessly lifting the man over the side of the balcony and forward, as if she were offering him an errant puppy. "I'm Yun, it's nice to meet you. I caught him for you. I even kept him alive! You're a policeman right? You like having things alive, right? Here!" she offered, tossing the man through the balcony doors.

Satoshi lunged for the pile of discarded clothes on his bed and scrabbled for his gun. He managed to unholster it, snatch up a pair of hand-cuffs and nearly lost his towel securing the 'gift' Yun had dropped into the room. She'd looked so pleased with herself, like a cat that had caught the canary. Only, like an actual cat, she'd dropped said 'canary' at his feet. Like the one cat he'd had in in his teenage years, who would regularly present him with dead animals as a sign of its affections. Come to think of it his cat had been a girl too…

When he'd gone to the balcony to possibly arrest her she'd effortlessly disarmed him, looped her hands around his neck, reeled him in and kissed him within an inch of his life.

"Oh I wish I could just take you home~! But I won't. Dàgē would snap your neck and string your entrails up for New Year's Decorations." She had sighed after pulled back, slipping his gun back into his hand and giving him one last mournful peck. "He's a tad protective of me, I'm sure I can convince him though…"

He'd been so confused that he couldn't scraped together enough brain cells to string a question together, not that he'd have been able to ask. Seeing the question on his face Yun hand answered in her typical brain-baking, blunt truth.

"Because you're lovely and I never leave a debt unpaid~!" she answered his unasked question and had then promptly turned around and JUMPED OFF HIS BALCONY. Off the THIRD FLOOR. He'd yelped. He couldn't have helped it even if he'd been prepared for it. He nearly went over the side reaching to grab her and then stared boggle-eyed again as he watched her slink down the side of the building with impossibly liquid grace.

It wasn't until a week after the encounter on the balcony that he realized what she'd been talking about when she mentioned a debt, not until he'd received a dry-cleaned jacket and his umbrella back in the mail. At his home address. He remembered meeting her, it had to have been two or three days into the case that had brought him to Tokyo in the first place. He'd been rushing through the rain to the Tokyo police headquarters and had caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye while waiting for a traffic light to turn green.

She'd looked about as miserable as a drowned rat. Soaked to the skin from the rain that she didn't even bother sheltering herself from with her hair plastered to her face in a wet tangle. She hadn't even been dressed for the weather, wearing a short sundress that would have been appropriate for the weather had it stayed clear like the newscast had predicted.

He'd automatically shifted his umbrella to shield her from the rain she wasn't doing anything to shield herself from and shrugged off his jacket in the same move. He didn't exactly remember what he'd said but he'd started to scold her for letting herself get into the conditions she was in, for not taking shelter to at least wait out the rain and why was she dressed so lightly? He'd dropped his jacket around her shoulders, guided her across the street and under the eaves of the building on the corner.

He'd pulled his wallet out of his pocket, grabbed some money and had folded her hands around the notes, (money for a cab to wherever she was headed). He was halfway through buttoning up the jacket for her when his brain caught up with him. He'd let his big brother impulses overtake him and he'd moved on auto-pilot. He's started scolding a stranger, a woman at that! Women didn't generally take very well to him, either too intimidated with what his brother affectionately called his 'natural frown' and what others called a 'distant' attitude. He knew he came across as harsh and unfeeling but honestly? He was fine with that. He wasn't a social butterfly by any stretch of the imagination and if people were put off by his 'constantly scowling' face and 'bitter' attitude? All the better. It just meant fewer irritants in his life.

Only… Yun hadn't taken any of it as scolding. In all honesty she'd looked a little star-struck, her brilliant blue eyes had widened in surprise and the cute blush that had flushed her face red caught HIM by surprise in turn. He'd been in a handful of relationships, (with women who thought they could 'change' him), but he'd never been quite so taken with them as he'd had with Yun. He'd been blindsided by her, knocked so completely off kilter that he'd pretty much babbled an excuse about needing to be somewhere and bolted.

He'd spent the rest of the day with his face plastered to the temporary desk he'd been assigned during his stay in Tokyo. His little brother had managed to get the story out of him and had promptly laughed in his face. "What kind of man runs away from a grateful woman?" Minoru asked and had ended up having to scramble catch the fake pot-plant Satoshi had tossed at his head in retaliation before it could hit. To add insult to injury he'd come down with a cold, quite possibly from running through the rain all the way to the Tokyo office without taking cover from the rain.

The umbrella and the dry cleaned jacket that had been returned to him… had reminded him of all that. Searching through his jacket pockets revealed how she'd known where to return his jacket and how she'd known about the case he was working on. His notebook and police identification had been in the breast pocket. In return for an umbrella, some money and a jacket she'd gone out and caught a serial killer for him. He was sure it all balanced out in her head but even all these years later it still bent his brain into unnatural shapes as he tried to follow the mind-set.

Now he was going to have to go into the house and tell her Takeru had been in Tokyo, he almost didn't want to but he didn't really have a choice. Pulling out his wallet Satoshi flipped it open and stared at the picture tucked into the clear pocket, comparing the two year old to the thirteen year old and wondered how he could have ever mistaken, (even if only for a very short time), the Sawamura boy for his Takeru. The eyes should have given it away, the shape, colour and shade hadn't changed at all in the years between the two pictures. He'd only ever seen one other person with eyes like that and he was married to her.

Carefully folding the new picture into the clear pocket of his wallet Satoshi put his wallet back into his pocket and left his car. He'd spent enough time sitting in his car doing nothing, it was about time he went in to face the proverbial music.

OoO

Yun knew something was wrong with her husband the second he stepped in to the house. His usually straight-backed figure was slightly hunched over and there was a bitter, self-hating twist to the shape of his lips that immediately had her freezing in the act of greeting him.

Something had happened, something he was trying to break to her gently.

Kyouya was in the house. She'd seen him with her own eyes, there was no way he was in any way injured, he was FINE. Satoshi himself looked fine as well. Minoru? Fon? Had something happened to someone else in the family?

"What happened?"

Satoshi shook his head, wordlessly holding a finger up to his lips as a signal to keep her voice down. "Where's Kyouya?" he asked softly instead of answering, meeting her eyes with his own sharp grey ones darkened with pain.

Yun swallowed sharply, stepping closer so he wouldn't have raise his voice in order to talk with her and alert their son that something was being kept from him. "He's in the living room, studying."

Nodding at that Satoshi pulled her by the hand into the kitchen. "I don't want Kyouya to know just yet, so please keep this from him until after we can confirm it. I don't want to risk having him run off on his own."

"Why would Kyouya run off on his own? He's always been such a good boy—" Yun cut herself off abruptly and pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle her shock when Satoshi pulled a folded piece of paper out of his wallet and held it up in front of her. Biting her lip to make sure she wouldn't make any further noise she snatched the paper out of his hands she felt her knees go weak as she pulled it towards her. Fumbling for the light-switch Yun flipped it on with a shaking hand to better see the picture and felt herself begin to tear up. Pressing the photograph to her chest she leaned forward into Satoshi's chest and buried herself in his arms.

"Where did you get this?" she asked softly, now understanding why he'd asked her where Kyouya was. He really would have run off on his own.

"One of your brother's contacts caught sight of him and thought the resemblance was too funny a joke to not share. Everyone in the agency is out looking for him and scouring for clues, including Fon."

Funny? Who among her brothers circle of acquaintances would find the resemblance funny when it was common knowledge in the underworld that her son was missing? She was going to find whoever it was that thought her situation made for a great joke and give them something real to share. Perhaps a picture of their own mangled face?

"When was this taken?" she asked, very, VERY carefully smoothing out the paper and looking over it with hungry eyes, titling it up so she could view the picture without moving it too far away from her.

"Yesterday. We've been out searching since. I've managed to cash in some favours and one of my old colleagues in Tokyo is running it through facial recognition. If he's been recorded anywhere in japan we'll know soon."

"How soon—" Yun cut her own question off at the sound of a door being slammed open in the hallway, motioning for her husband to stay where he was she went to find out what had caused it. If Kyouya saw his father's face right now he'd know something was being kept from him and there'd be no getting her bull-headed son to leave the man alone without finding out exactly what it was. Really, the man was a wet paper bag when it came to keeping secrets, no poker-face whatsoever. The pushover.

Poking her head out of the kitchen she saw that Kyouya was standing at the door leading out onto the veranda, scowling out into the night as if he expected to find someone there. Silently handing the picture back to his father she leaned out of the doorway and kept her voice casual, not wanting to alert him as to what was going on. "Kyouya? What are you doing?" She asked, waiting for Satoshi to finish hiding the picture before stepping fully out into the hallway and motioning him to stay in the kitchen.

"I thought I heard something… must have been my imagination." Kyouya replied, narrowed eyes so much like his father's scanning the surroundings. Satisfied that there was nothing outside that required his immediate attention her son yawned widely. "I'm going to bed."

That was good, they'd be able to talk without risking him overhearing. "Busy day tomorrow?" She asked, sliding the kitchen door shut behind her casually so as not to let her son see his father. One of these days she was going to have to finally succeed in teaching Satoshi how to keep his face straight but for now she'd just have to cover for him. Like always.

"Herbivores to bite. They come out in herds after the week ends." Kyouya replied, closing the door with a sharp snap and turning to head to his room. She couldn't get enough of how amazing her son had grown up to be, only fifteen years old and she could already see what kind of fine young man he was growing up to be! Keeping the peace in Namimori, it was really quite the noble cause to apply his strength to and the 'job experience' he gained would kick-start his intended career as a private detective. Why girls weren't already falling all over themselves trying to get his attention was a mystery she would never understand. Girls these days were blind.

Waiting till Kyouya was well and truly out of earshot Yun picked up her mobile phone from the hallway table and opened the kitchen door, unsurprised to find Satoshi staring at the picture again. Stepping into the room with him she leaned into his shoulder to look with him and slipped it out of his hands. She knew what he was thinking but he was wrong this time, she wasn't about to go haring off like she had years ago the last time someone had 'spotted' Takeru. She never wanted to be responsible for the kind of pain she seen in Satoshi's eyes when she'd returned home with the news it had been a false alarm. She could do her research all from the comfort of her own home now, she had her own contacts ready and waiting for a call from her.

"We're going to find him." She reassured her husband, taking a picture of the photograph to get the ball rolling and slipping her arms around his waist to give him a reassuring squeeze. "We are not letting this clue slip away from us."

This time she wasn't going to hold back, not even to spare her husband from underworld. She wasn't leaving him behind a second time, not after what she'd put him through the last time. If she had to drag her family into the underworld to pull it back together she'd do it.

She was more than strong enough to protect them now.

OoO

Takeru felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he was hauled into an intimidatingly tall building by one of the extremely unimpressed cops that had arrived somewhere in the middle of the 'fight' he'd gotten dragged into. The man's partner locked the car and followed behind him and eyed him with deep suspicion. It was as if the man expected him to either try and make a run for it or fight back like all the other guys who'd been arrested with him had. To be fair, if he got the chance to make a run for it he'd totally take it, but he wasn't about to try anything now that he was already at the police station. He'd gotten tackled once already, he'd rather pass on a repeat performance. Adults were heavy.

He'd been brought to Namimori Prefectural Police office.

Takeru had known he'd end up here at some point in his investigation for some reason or another, if for no other reason than to mine the place for information. He'd imagined a good solid amount of time spent unearthing clues, building up a solid base of confidence before he came anywhere near the authorities because he knew what would happen the second they caught wind of exactly who he was. He'd be handing over the freedom he'd half killed himself to earn and be putting himself under the care and protection of strangers, people he didn't know and couldn't trust.

He HAD considered going to the police at one point and letting them sort out the introductions, but had ultimately deemed it far too risky. Planning on using the police to facilitate a reunion with his family was one thing… getting arrested and having that control taken out of his hands was another thing entirely. Add that to the feeling he got the minute he was escorted into the police station and he had all the makings of one very impressive meltdown building up inside him.

He didn't bother reacting to the howling of the gang members who'd been hauled in with him, he was focusing on something else entirely. He was too distracted to even care that the gang members were still trying to reach for him, going as far as to strain against the police officers restraining them.

Noting his indifference to the implied threat the police officers had decided to separate him from the 'herd', so to speak, and had him cuffed to a table in an 'Interview' room.

He'd felt a faint tickle of magic brush up against his senses.

He didn't react outwardly, instead he leaned his forehead on the table he'd been sat at and slid his eyes shut as he felt for the source that was steadily growing stronger with every passing moment. It was reacting to him, to his presence, and it was reaching out its own feelers to brush up against him. Pulling his magic back sharply Takeru coiled it down as deep inside himself as he possibly could and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He recognized exactly who that magical signature belonged to. How could he not?

He'd finally stumbled across something Dumbledore or one of his catspaws had left in Namimori.

Swallowing minutely Takeru let his eyes slide back open and forced himself to loosen up as he sat up. The presence was now strong enough that he could sense it clearly enough with his eyes open, without even having to concentrate on it. He wanted to run, put as much distance between him and Namimori as he possibly could before the booby trap managed to get a lock on him. He'd have already pulled out his wand to make an escape if he hadn't known he was being watched and recorded because whatever it was… the thing was setting off every warning bell in his body.

Straightening in his seat he scanned the room, there was a camera in one of the corners of the ceiling and one of the walls had a large two-way mirror that he'd bet his wand arm someone was standing behind and watching him from. He'd already heard someone unintentionally thump the glass since he'd been put in the room and oddly enough the sounds of a muted scuffle ensued. Were the police using the next room to interview someone else?

Snorting softly to himself Takeru eyeballed his handcuffs, they shouldn't be too difficult to pick. He just needed a paperclip or something and he'd easily be able to unlock… or he could use his wand. They hadn't taken his holster off him after all. He let out a slow breath, he'd almost stopped breathing for a moment there. He just need to get somewhere out of direct line of sight, somewhere he could slip away without being noticed. For that he was going to need to get the police to either let him go or… he could ask to use the bathroom and let himself out.

It wasn't an overly elaborate plan but what other choice did he have? He wasn't about to sit here and let whatever magical trap Dumbledore had left behind just spring on him. It could be a magical bomb for all he knew, meant to get rid of the 'evidence' of his actions. Of course it wouldn't matter who got caught up in it, sacrifices were necessary 'for the Greater Good'.

Jerking slightly as the thought occurred to him Takeru grumbled to himself irritably. Great, how exactly was he supposed to just simply walk out now that his traitorous mind had come up that scenario? Whatever the aged headmaster had left behind in Namimori was gearing up for something and he didn't know what. Could he leave all these innocent police officers to whatever fate they'd unknowingly be facing?

Scowling unhappily at the wall Takeru wished someone would hurry up and come in already, he really couldn't afford to wait here much longer or his magic was going to do the reacting for him. He could already feel it roiling underneath his skin in agitation at being squashed down and he wasn't in exactly in the right mental state to keep it any calmer. He felt the hair on his arms stand on end at being so close to a piece of Dumbledore's magic and sweat bead across his brow. His muscles tightened minutely and he couldn't stop himself from jerking at the handcuffs keeping him chained to the metal table when the presence brushed a phantom hand across his hands.

Luckily it had happened at the same time someone finally decided it was time to question him. Sitting up as the door clicked open Takeru kept his face blank as a brown haired police officer stepped into the room, a small juice carton in one hand, a plate of cookies in the other and a file tucked under his arm. The man set the juice and cookies down in front of him and pushing the plate forward with a smile.

Takeru was uncuffed and left to rub at his wrists as the man sat down in the chair opposite him. The police officer leaned back in his chair and just stared, the quirking edges of a grin kicking the corners of his mouth upwards as he tossed the file onto the surface of the table. "So, Jackie Chan..." The cop started, smirk breaking out onto his face as he talked. "I have to ask, how does a little thing like you scrape away from a fight with eighteen Yakuza without a scratch?"

Jackie Chan? What? That had to be a muggle reference, one he'd figure it out later, but for now… "Fight?" Takeru asked lightly, leaning back in his own chair to show that he wasn't in the least bit intimidated, mirroring the officer. "I don't remember getting into a fight." He remarked, pushing the plate of cookies away from him and giving the drink he'd been presented with a sideways look.

Yeah, even if he had been in the mood for it there was no way he was going to touch the cookies, there was an active magical artefact in the building and he had no idea what task it was spelled to accomplish. His imagination didn't really need any help thinking up scenarios, he had firsthand experience of what magic was capable of and taking hold of a defenseless muggle and forcing someone into 'altering' an unsuspecting wizard's food was the least of what such an artefact could do. At the very least the drink was sealed, small mercies.

"What would you call this then?" The cop asked as he flipped open the file, fanning out a spread of photographs. Pictures of the men who'd tried to start a fight with him, focused on the injuries across the lot of them.

"Stab-chase?" Takeru delivered, face completely deadpan. "I totally won."

"Stab... chase?" the man repeated slowly, "What…?"

"It's just like regular chase only the person who's 'It' is the one who has to run and everyone else does the chasing. With sharp things. The goal of the game is not to get stabbed." Takeru explained, face still straight. "They tried their best but I guess I went a little too fast for them."

Reaching for the juice he thoroughly enjoyed the flabbergasted, (and vaguely horrified), look of sheer disbelief that crossed the man's face and stabbed the straw into the carton with more force than strictly necessary. Okay, being on the other side of that reaction was hilarious and oddly satisfying. Maybe he couldn't run away or take his stress out on the cop physically but he could totally break the man's brain. All joking aside that had been pretty much his reaction too when he'd seen the upper years in Gryffindor initiate the game sometime in his first year at Hogwarts.

Taking a sip Takeru started as the taste of milk registered and stared at the carton, how had he missed the picture of the cow on the label? Also since when did milk come in cartons this small? They didn't pack them like this in England! Or did they? He'd been out of the muggle world for far too long if he didn't know the answer to that… and his mind was wandering off on a tangent, trying to distract him from the very real pressure building up behind his eyes. Calm, he had to calm down. Now. If he lost it and accidentally killed someone here he'd have nowhere to run. He did NOT want a repeat of what had happened in Dumbledore's office.

"So…" Takeru asked, quickly draining the box of milk and setting the empty carton back on the table with a thump. "Are you arresting me? Charging me with anything? Cause I'm starting to get hungry and sugar isn't really going to cut it."

"You're not in any trouble and we aren't arresting you, we just need a few questions answered and then you're free to go." The cop responded lightly, smiling as if to put him at ease.

"Unless the law has changed since the last time I checked you aren't allowed to ask me any questions without a parent or guardian present." Takeru replied instantly, feeling non-existent hackles rise at the verbal trap. He knew at least that much about Muggle Law from Hermione. After his 'trial' with the Wizengamot she'd dived head-first into researching the magical side of the law and had shared her disgust with the whole of Gryffindor Tower. At length. Muggle children had more rights than Wizarding Children did, at least when it came to protection from the adults they were surrounded by.

Children were under the protection of the Head of the family. No questions asked. Child Protective Services didn't exist and if a child ever needed sanctum from said Head of family? Options were slim to none and there was no support by way of the government. It really was like the Magical World had stopped advancing during the Dark Ages. In any case this cop had no legal standing to ask him anything, especially given that he'd already said he wasn't in any danger of being arrested.

"Hey, relax, we're just talking here. I don't even know your name, I'm Police Detective Kiriyama Toshiya, sorry for not introducing myself earlier." The cop tried, waving the file he was holding in the air between them as if to fan off his attitude.

"Nice to meet you Detective Kiriyama, you can call me Jackie." Takeru snapped back sarcastically. The cop was being unusually nice. He didn't like it. He'd been caught in the middle of a pack of screaming and fighting gangsters. Shouldn't they be reacting with a bit more… strictness than this? At the very least with some hint of suspicion? He already considered himself lucky that he hadn't gotten maced somewhere in the middle of the mayhem when the police showed up but this was too much. What was this guy playing at?

The detective bit back what was clearly a laugh and coughed to disguise it. "Okay then Jackie… This is all just protocol, you really aren't in any trouble, we just need a few details about what happened. If anything the guys who attacked you are the ones in trouble. We need to hear how it all started to settle things neatly, keeps the paperwork straight you know? Do you mind sharing why you seem so wound up?"

Again the man was being too nice. He was apparently the only person in the group of 'fighters' uninjured and he was getting the 'nice cop' treatment? It was too bizarre. "I've just spent the last hour playing Stab-Chase with jack-asses one-through-eighteen out there, been dragged to the police station against my will by a couple of cops who LANDED on me and I've been here ever since. I am hungry, tired and stuck in an interrogation room. Also did I mention I was hungry? I am. Hunger makes me cranky. So forgive me if I'm a little 'wound up'. Milk and cookies really don't help. At all." Takeru bit out, fighting against the urge to flip said plate of cookies at the man's head. As satisfying as it would be to do so it would only get him into trouble. More than he was in already.

"… anything else you want to add to the list while you're at it?" The man asked, leaning back and seemingly enjoying his sarcasm.

"Now that you mention it, I need to use the bathroom. I might be more inclined to do more than just sit here while we wait for my lawyer after I come back." Takeru drawled, leaning back in his own chair and arching a challenging eyebrow at him, hoping he'd take the bait. Might as well take advantage of the man's seeming 'generosity'. Every moment he wasted allowed Dumbledore's magical artefact grow stronger and stronger, it had already sucked up the traces his magic had left behind in the room and its feelers were greedily brushing up against him for more, lipping lightly at his skin for the tightly leashed magic he was only barely keeping back.

If he didn't get out soon he was going to let himself out, screw the Statute of Secrecy, his life was in danger! As were the lives of everyone currently in the building! He was half a sneeze away from letting his magic slip and given what he'd done to Dumbledore's office the result would probably be explosive. That was without even calculating the effects of whatever was licking at his magic. Forget baiting the officer into showing him the bathroom, he'd just walk out and find the bathroom himself! Pushing back his chair he stood up and glared expectantly at the police officer. "If you would show me the way to the bathroom already?" he was done with polite. He'd tried polite. Polite wasn't working fast enough. Polite had also wasted valuable time.

"Alright, alright. No need to get snappy with me." Detective Kiriyama said, getting up and opening the door, leaving the folder with the photographs on the table. He took moment to whisper something to the uniformed officer standing guard outside the room and turned to him. "Follow me, it's just down this way."

"Finally."

Takeru ignored the police officer that ducked past them into the room as they left and followed behind the detective showing him the way to the bathroom. On the way there he kept his eyes peeled for the source of magic that was greedily lipping at his skin.

One of the teenagers he'd 'fought' with bared his teeth at him from the heavy looking chair sitting next to one of the desks they were walking past and Takeru couldn't help baring his teeth right back. Just let someone try and attack him now, he wouldn't hold back this time and this guy was definitely the type of jackass he wouldn't have a problem sharpening his claws on. He was about a thread away from scalping the next person who looked sideways at him and, (in all honesty), he'd be doing this guy a favour! Blue hair was not a good look on him.

A choke had Takeru turning his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing, namely following the detective, and resumed walking again. The detective had witnessed part of the exchange and looked like he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or stare.

"What?" he asked. "You forget which way the bathroom is?"

"I… no, it's just… you remind me so much of someone right now." Detective Kiriyama said almost involuntarily, hand rising up to hide grin that was fighting for control of his face.

"Good for you… which way do we go now?"

"…this way."

When he pushed the doors open Takeru took one look at the rather spacious interior of the bathroom and knew that the detective would have no problem with following him in. Which would just make it that much more difficult to escape. So when the detective pushed an arm against the door from behind him to 'help' him open it Takeru turned and pinned the man with a filthy glare.

"You're going to follow me in?" he asked, voice dripping in disgust. He glowered at the man, just barely holding back a snarl. "You think I want an audience? The peanut gallery back in the interrogation room wasn't enough for you?" What would it take to get the man to back off already- The man let go of the door as if he'd been burned and practically apparated away.

"I'll just… have someone wait out here for you then." Detective Kiriyama said, looking a little pale as he waved a uniformed officer over to 'wait' for him. "To show you the way back. In case you get lost."

"Sure. Whatever." Takeru replied jerkily as he strode further into the room, sparing the man no more attention now that he'd gotten what he wanted. Like the cop the detective had waved over wasn't there to guard the door and make sure he didn't leave. Had he not been so preoccupied with planning his escape he'd have questioned the man's quick retreat but for now he couldn't care less. He had his way out, all he had to do now was take it and not screw up.

The windows were barred. Actually barred even though they were on the third floor of the building. There'd be no escaping out that way unless he used magic and that wasn't exactly an option given that there was a magical artefact in the building that could be waiting for him to lower his guard. Which wasn't going to happen. Ever.

Giving the stalls a check to see if they were empty he pulled out his invisibility cloak and swung it around his shoulders. Back to basics it was. He may have once been forced to forget the stealth he'd learned at Hogwarts but he remembered now. It was about time he brushed the dust off that particular skill-set. If there was ever a time he needed it the most it was now. He was going to find the source of the magic that was trying to dig its claws into him and he was going to destroy it.

Hopping up onto a sink, Takeru balanced on the edges so he wouldn't be in danger of being tripped over and leaned back against the mirror that spanned wall to wall. He absently noted that he didn't have to crouch down for the cloak to fully cover him as it pooled over his feet like it used to back when he'd been in his second year at Hogwarts. On one hand he was rather glad that the cloak covered him completely, on the other hand he was irritated he was short again.

Tucking the cloak tightly around him he kept the grumble that wanted to escape him firmly on the inside. He didn't want to give himself away. He was playing the Waiting Game again. Eventually someone would come in to see what was taking him so long in the bathroom. The door would open and he'd be free to slip out without making anyone wonder why the door had opened on its own. He would locate whatever magical artefact was kissing up against his skin and kill it dead.

He just had to endure it for a little bit. It shouldn't take too much longer for someone to realize he was 'missing'.

OoO

Kiriyama Toshiya returned to the interrogation room. He checked that the plate of cookies and the carton of milk 'Jackie Chan' had touched and drunk from had been sent off to forensics, (with a priority order that would get it processed within the hour), and continued down the hall. Opening the door to the observation room, he couldn't help but flinch at the molten glare he was met with.

"Can you stop looking at me like that?" he complained as he forced his unwittingly frozen body into moving again and closed the door behind him as he cleared the doorway. "You know that if we hadn't stopped you you'd have gone barreling in there and scared the poor kid to death!"

Lips pulled back away from teeth in a very animalistic expression of promised violence and future pain. Toshiya nodded to himself. Yeah, he could see the resemblance, there had to be SOME kind of blood relation between the kid they'd picked up and his co-worker. No one else that he'd ever met outside the Hibari family could pull off that particular expression and he'd seen the kid do it effortlessly. He'd tried copying that glare himself more than once and he just couldn't manage it.

Hibari Minoru had the look down pat.

"How about you un-cuff me and we'll see if I can stop." Minoru strained, looking as if he was actually trying to smile reassuringly and couldn't tell that he was failing miserably. He looked like he wanted to bite the first person who came near him. To death. Like his nephew was constantly threatening to do.

"How about 'No' because I value my throat and balls intact? Seriously, calm down or I'm going to call a medic to come in and have you sedated." Toshiya threatened, dragging a chair close and seating himself so he'd be at eye level with the man cuffed to the other side of the table.

Thank god the observation room doubled as a secondary lock-up in a pinch. They wouldn't have been able to contain the man if there hadn't already been somewhere reinforced to hold him. Kyouya's fault. If it hadn't been for him and his merry band of vigilante peace-keepers they'd have never have been forced to renovate the headquarters in order to hold the rising number of criminals the teenager sent their way.

Toshiya was honestly terrified of the day the brat was old enough to join the force. It had been cute when he was five. Not so cute now that he was fifteen and bringing in Yakuza who should have been taken to the hospital first. Kyouya already had his own mini police force, one that he ruled with an iron fist. He would have no PROBLEM controlling the rest of the officers in the precinct. He already had the hospital under thumb and his parents… just enabled his behaviour.

"That kid… he's terrified." Toshiya remarked. "Just think for a minute, what kind of reaction do you think you'd have gotten out of him if you'd just walked in there and grabbed him?"

"I'm his UNCLE!" Minoru snarled, "He wouldn't be scared of me!"

"You know BETTER than to think that!" Toshiya snarled back, slamming his hand on the table between them. "How long have you been working Missing Person's cases? THINK. He was two years old when he was kidnapped, how much do you really think he's going to remember if it really is him? Not a hell of a lot! You're smarter than this! Pull your head out of your bleeding heart and use your brain!"

"I…"

"You have no idea who this kid is or what he's been through! We don't even know what name he's going by or who his guardians are! If this IS Takeru don't you want to know who's been raising him? If we play things right we might even be able to reel in his 'parents'. We need you to think like a cop and NOT his uncle right now. No one wants a repeat of the three ring media circus that happened the last time someone thought they'd found him!"

When Minoru grimaced Toshiya knew the man was actually starting to listen to him. It was the reminder of the fiasco of a false lead that had everyone running around in circles six years ago. Every cop and detective in Namimori had at least a passing knowledge of the case, every now and then someone would take the file out and look it over for any missed clues. A junior officer had sighted a child that had borne a very close resemblance to one of the profiles the sketch artists had made for the case at the time.

The media had gotten wind of the story and had run with it. Hibari Satoshi had ended up practically camped out in his car across the street of the family's house. Minoru's sister-in-law Yun disappeared for a few months (presumably doing the same though no one had ever caught her at it). Kyouya's efforts in 'preserving Namimori's atmosphere' had ramped up into overdrive for months afterwards and Minoru himself had pursued the case like a man possessed.

The poor mistaken family involved ended up 'voluntarily' providing DNA as proof they hadn't kidnapped their own child. They had then legally changed their names and moved away from Namimori the first chance they got.

It was the reason why Minoru had been tackled by his own co-workers. No one wanted another repeat of that incident. The legal hoops their public relations department had jumped through to save face and cover everyone's asses would have been enough to qualify them all for admission into psychiatric care. Supervisors had been called in by the higher-ups and raised voices from the top floor offices had been heard from the entrance on the ground floor. Phones had been ringing off the hook for weeks and it had taken almost a year for the media to stop feeding the frenzy. One also had to remember the soul-crushing weight of the sheer amount of paper-work the incident had generated. Truly, no one wanted to see that again.

"You need to calm the fuck down and let us do our jobs. If you can't remain professional then maybe you should go home." he 'suggested' coolly. The implication made Minoru jerk and pin him with another blistering glare.

Folding his arms and leaning back in his chair Toshiya met the look with a flat and unimpressed look. When it came to kids there was a reason why he was called in so often to do the interrogating, he had the most training in getting answers from the brats, and this kid? He was tense, high-strung and already lying through his teeth. On top of that he looked like he was about ready to attack the first person to move in his direction, or throw himself out of a window to escape. The little scrap of attitude they had collared was so full of fear that he was half-wild with it.

The two remained seated in tense silence as Minoru tried to glare his way into getting what he wanted, sadly he was nowhere near as cute as his sister-in-law and there was no fucking way he was going to crumble. Not when he knew the cuffs holding his co-worker were reinforced and quite capable of holding the younger of the Hibari brothers.

The silence stretched.

Toshiya wasn't going to move until he got that agreement, either to chill out, or take a break. It was unlikely he would get it but he could always hope…

"I - " Minoru grit out, stubbornly trying to hold his ground. Long silences were his kryptonite. It was a tactic the detective's older brother used on him all the time and perhaps one of the only ways to get the man to THINK.

"KIRIYAMA!" A voice shouted as a pair of uniforms burst into the room. "THE KID IS GONE!"

"Uncuff me. _NOW_."

OoO

Takeru didn't pause for anything, the second he got the chance to leave the bathroom he took it, moving swiftly through the open door and out into the office. Time was not on his side, he'd never actually tried pushing down his magic this far before and he was staring to understand why sealing his magic would have been a bad idea. Holding it all in was hard. His magic kept wanting to slip out from under the grip he had on it and the tight grip was starting to hurt! He wasn't even managing to completely keep it all down, small wisps and tendrils escaped and were eagerly sucked up by the feelers that had eagerly reaching around his shoulders.

At least he knew where he was going, thanks to those very same feelers he knew exactly which direction to head and where the magical artefact was being stored. The twining intangible arms felt like they were pulling him forward and looping around him in circles that got looser and stronger the closer he got. He found a stairwell and took the stairs down three and four steps at a time, adopting a break-neck speed that would have killed anyone else. To Takeru these stairs were nothing, they were static, had no trick steps meant to trap the unwary and even had special non-slip stirps that helped with traction. He was down four floors in less than a minute, kicking off the walls whenever he had to turn to go down another flight. The incorporeal arms pulling him down levelled out from their angled position, telling him that he was now on the correct floor.

He had to spell the door open to get to the offices and stepped into a corridor. Un-holstering his wand Takeru stepped forward, sticking close to the walls and peering cautiously around corners as he moved forward even though he was still under the invisibility cloak. At this point he so didn't want to be running head-first into people around corners and he'd learned a lesson from the fake Moody, you could never tell if someone had the ability to see through an invisibility cloak. He also had no idea what he was going to be walking into now that he was this close to the source of the grasping magic pulling at him so he was going to take every precaution he could.

He headed straight for the door at the end of the third hallway he passed. The one with the shiny new electronic lock next to the barred window that was also paned with thick plexiglass. He'd been led to the Evidence Room. Had the police unknowingly picked up whatever it was that was that Dumbledore had left behind after his kidnapping and had packed it away as evidence?

Pointing his wand at the door to spell this one open too, he ground his teeth in agitation as the wand sparked on its own without prompting. The lock on the door whined, hissed and opened with a sharp pop.

"What the hell? We just replaced that lock last month!" a voice exclaimed from inside the room, prompting Takeru into plastering himself against the wall and sliding past the officer who stepped out to examine the broken lock.

Takeru stepped delicately past the man and into the office the man had exited, skirting the desks and eyeing the room in absent curiosity. People actually had to physically guard an evidence room in the non-magical world? He'd have thought a camera and a lock would have been more than enough to keep most people out.

Unlocking the security door on the opposite end of the room, (yet again overpowering the charm), he stepped into a room lined with shelves. The room was so quiet he could hear himself breathe, he was almost tempted to cast a silencing charm on himself but the thought of being stuck until the spell wore off made him stop. Allowing the phantom tug to guide him forward, he bypassed several shelves and walked deeper into the large room, only stopping once he was sure he was certain he knew where it was coming from.

An evidence box sitting at ankle-height. Opening an empty pocket of his satchel Takeru didn't waste time opening it and looking inside, he just dumped it in. His curiosity could wait till he was somewhere safe.

He needed to leave.

Slipping out of the room the same way he came in Takeru was soon back in the stair well he'd taken on the way down (very carefully avoiding the man still examining the lock with a puzzled look on his face) and took the steps up two at a time, he'd apparently taken them down to a basement floor. He had to go up one floor if he wanted to leave. Slipping through the door that opened up into the main area of the police station Takeru felt the blood freeze in his body as an agonized yell ripped through the station.

"TAKERU!"

Bodily flinching, Takeru instinctively responded by flattening himself to the wall as his heart lurched. Gripping the edges of his invisibility cloak in a painful grip he let his knees fold out from underneath him and bunched himself up into a tight ball. He recognized that voice. He did.

That was his uncle. His real uncle. Hibari Minoru.

Burying his face in his hands along with the bunched up fabric of the invisibility cloak Takeru had to take a few precious moments to gather his scrambled wits as they had scattered at the sound of his name. He forced his face out of his trembling hands and looked through his fringe at the dark haired man fighting off the straining grasp of his fellow officers.

Dark hair that looked like it was usually neat but was currently ruffled, likely from fighting his way through the group of uniforms trying to hold him back. Sharp grey eyes were scanning the area frantically. The man had a handsome and angular face. He was tall, lean and strong enough to push past several of the adults trying to contain him. He looked like he was the polar opposite of Vernon Dursley aside from the fact that he was completely lacking in magic.

And he looked like he was in agony.

Takeru grit his teeth together and clenched his eyes shut as a hot trail of tears spilled out of his eyes. He wanted to jump out from under the invisibility cloak and go running to the man, if only to stop the pain. But. At the moment he might as well be a ticking time-bomb CARRYING ANOTHER BOMB. He had no idea what he'd shoved into his satchel and it was already reaching up out of it and wrapping silkily around him. Grabbing greedily for the magic that was escaping his grasp.

"I'm sorry…" he choked around the lump in his throat as he holstered his wand. He swiped the moisture off his face, covered the satchel on his left wrist, clenched down on it in an almost painful grip and pushed off away from the wall in one strong heave, bolting for the exit.

He didn't have the time to waste crying over this. He could cry later. When he'd taken care of whatever he'd picked up in the Evidence Room.

He had no other choice.

OoO

Minoru drove through three red lights, ran over a trash can and almost drove his car over the top of his brothers as he was trying to park it, he'd been going so fast that it was a minor miracle that he'd managed to stop before crushing the other car with his own. Screeching to a stop he didn't even pause to turn the car's engine off, leaving the car idling as he raced into the house. He wasn't going to be staying there long anyway. Takeru was somewhere out there and he was going to go back out and hunt him down himself if he had to.

He ran up to the front door and burst through it, not even bothering to pull his keys out, lucky for him the door was unlocked anyway.

"Minoru?! What? What happened to you?" his sister in law gasped from where she'd come running in from the living room, taking in his roughened appearance and probably fixating on the torn sleeve of his jacket.

"Forget about that for now! Where's Satosh- Nii-san! Takeru is here! In Namimori!" he told his stunned brother, who was staring at him in equal shock.

The sound of a door splintering somewhere echoed and a pair of footsteps thundered through the house. Kyouya lunged around the corner, jacket half pulled on over his pajamas and his phone grasped in one had. He reached out his free hand and pulled his uncle in by the front of his ruined shirt and hauled him down to eye level.

"WHERE!" the teenager demanded.

"He just left the police station! We had him and he escaped just a few minutes ago! Everyone has their hands full processing the Yakuza so they're saying we don't have the man-power to organize a search right now!"

"Useless herbivores!" Kyouya hissed, letting go of his uncle to pull his shoes out of the hallway closet and grab his Tonfa.

"Wait! Here! This was taken at the precinct!" Minoru said, passing his nephew one of the photographs he'd taken from the office before leaving, handing the other to his brother. He couldn't care less about protocol right now. He'd hand in his badge if he had to after this but he was NOT letting Takeru slip away from them. Not now that they was this close to getting him back! Everyone else was doing everything they could do bring Takeru back, Satoshi was on the phone with his detective agency within moments, redirecting the search from Tokyo to Namimori and Yun had her mobile out and was on the phone herself to her brother at the same time, talking in rapid-fire mandarin. This was the absolute least he could do.

Kyouya was out the door and running, phone to his ear and calling the Disciplinary Committee. He was going to need the cooperation of the police if he didn't want his guys to get arrested. Running out after him Minoru reached into his car for the police radio and started barking out orders of his own. He'd only stayed with the police as long as he had for the chance to find Takeru, there would always be a place for him at his brother's detective agency anyway. If he was going to hand in his badge for this then he might as well use what time he had left and go out with as loud a bang as possible.

He was distracted for a moment when his phone buzzed with the incoming of a message and checked it absently, eyes going wide as fierce and feral grin broke out on his face. Kiriyama Toshiya had just earned his life back for cuffing him to the table back at the police station.

The DNA on file matched the DNA taken off the straw the kid had drunk from and the fingerprints on the plate and milk-box matched. He'd been right on the money. It really HAD been Takeru.

Now all they had to do was find him and bring him home.

OoO

Takeru ran until his invisibility cloak caught on a bush and tripped him into tumbling inelegantly down a bank of grass, abruptly forcing him into visibility. Rolling to a stop right at the edge of a river, he desperately pushed down on his magic as it tried to rush up to save him from the fall and lay on the grass of the embankment panting for breath. How far had he managed to get before he'd tripped over his own cloak? He hadn't been paying attention, hadn't even been thinking or seeing clearly. He'd simply picked a direction to run and took it.

Now he had no idea where he was. He'd known where the police station was, the location was on his map, but now he'd lost all sense of direction.

Takeru rolled up onto his knees by planting an elbow into the damp grass that had cushioned his fall and picked himself up with a little difficulty due to his shaking limbs. He went to crawl up the embankment to retrieve the cloak when his magic did it for him, gently picking it free from the bush the cloak had caught on and settling it in his lap as if he'd cast Accio.

Forcibly trying to calm himself down as he examined it for damage, Takeru gently folded it down into a pocket and looked up at the path he'd fallen down from. He grimaced at the indentations he had made in the grass and counted himself lucky he hadn't actually rolled all the way into the river. How many times was his magic going to escape from him tonight?

He needed to get rid of the source of his anxiety, the magic that was reaching up out of his satchel and twisting it's greedy hands around him and pulling at the magic that had just escaped him.

He needed to find one of the abandoned buildings he'd marked out on his map earlier. The sooner he destroyed whatever was grabbing at him the better. Pulling the map out of his pocket Takeru gave it a quick scan. Good, he was too far away from one of them-

Feeling the arms stretch away from him and go reaching up the embankment Takeru broke out into a cold sweat when he felt a few of the hands twining around him reach up to a toddler standing on the path above him. A small, dark haired child who was looking down at him with curious dark eyes.

He panicked.

The result was a flood of magic escaping him and the reaching arms redirected from the toddler and back around him. Scrambling to his feet Takeru clenched his teeth with the effort it took to corral his magic back under control and glared up at the baby. Who on earth let a child that age wander around by themselves?

"Reborn! What are you doing over there? I thought we were going home now?"

Okay, he really had to go now. He wasn't about to let bystanders get caught up in his mess… either by the artefact or by the heat building up inside him. He was bursting at the edges and by now his skin was starting to feel tight from the pressure. It was pure dumb luck he'd managed to stop the grasping arms from grabbing hold of the kid staring down at him.

The baby had magic potential, muggleborn? Didn't matter. Climbing up the slope to the pathway Takeru barely spared a glance at the brown haired teenager who'd called out to the baby and walked away from them in the opposite direction. He felt the baby's eyes on the his back as he left and absently wondered if the toddler was in any way magically sensitive like he was. It would explain the eyes he was still feeling on his back.

Checking the map still in his hand Takeru was quick to stalk off. He had an artifact to 'take care' of.

OoO

Sawada Tsunayoshi stared after the gold-eyed teenager and gaped after the retreating form feeling very much like he'd been clubbed over the head. If it hadn't been for the age and the eyes he'd have looked exactly like… Hibari Kyouya.

The dark haired boy also looked like he'd taken a tumble down the embankment. Tsuna almost wished he'd seen it, the mental image of the prefect falling ass over teakettle down to the river was hilarious. Looking down the steep drop Tsuna caught sight of something white near the edge of the water and leaned further forward to get a closer look, had the other boy dropped something?

"If you're that curious Dame-Tsuna then go have a closer look!" was all the warning Tsuna got before the now-familiar sensation of Reborn's feet impacted with his head. Tsuna wasn't nearly as lucky, (or possibly not as athletically inclined) as the stranger who had fallen down the same slope and hit the river's surface with what had to be his most graceless belly-flop to date.

"REBORN! Why did you DO that? Now I'm all wet!" Tsuna complained loudly when he resurfaced, clawing desperately at the edges of the river and dragging himself out. He was so glad the water was shallow this close to the edge, he'd have drowned for sure if it had been any deeper.

Reborn didn't even look the least bit apologetic, smirking down at him from the pathway. "You should be thanking me, didn't you want a closer look?"

"At the thing he dropped, not the river!" Tsuna whined under his breath, knowing it would be useless to continue arguing. Cringing against the brush of wind against his newly wet clothes he scanned the grass for the object that had caught his attention and spotted it not too far away. Shaking as much water as he could off his hand he scooped up the little white ball off the wet grass and startled. It was fluffy… and warm? Was that from the other guys body-heat? Slogging his way back up the path Tsuna shook the water out of his hair and brushed himself off, should he try and find the other teenager? He couldn't have gotten very far…

A bullet shot into the pavement so close to his foot it grazed his sneaker, leaving a black streak and the faint smell of burning rubber in its wake.

Tsuna yelped and leaped a good three feet away, in the opposite direction he'd seen the other boy go in. Reborn's eyes glinted at him from under the shade of his fedora and Tsuna instantly knew that if he tried to follow the other boy to return his lost property Reborn would stop him. By shooting him.

"If you don't head home now you'll catch a cold." Reborn warned him, voice uncharacteristically serious for what had to be the first time since they'd met. "I suppose I could nurse you back to health if you do get sick, with the traditional Vongola 'Get Well' method you should be cured in less than two hours..."

Tsuna started running. Home. All thoughts of returning the ball back to its owner squashed by the very real threat. He didn't know what Reborn was threatening him with, but honestly? He'd known the Hitman long enough to know one thing.

He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy!

OoO

Reborn didn't bother following behind his student, he was more than fairly confident in the fact Tsuna would run all the way home.

Honestly, keeping a Sky alive long enough to gather the full set of Guardians was a juggling act at the best of times, did Tsuna have to be quite so prone to poking at things that would kill him if given half the chance? Glancing in the direction the boy Tsuna had been so interested in Reborn removed Leon from his perch on his shoulder and had the chameleon change into a mobile phone, firing off a text to Fon.

'I think your body-double nearly ripped my student's head off. He's heading up to the shopping district. Given your reaction to the last texts I sent, I figured you may want to know.'

The boy had been blistering with Sun flames, looking like he'd attack at the first and slightest provocation. He'd been deep enough in fear and panic that just about anything would have been enough to tip him over the edge, as evidenced by the boy's eyes which had been burning with Sun Flames. One wrong slip-up on Tsuna's part and he'd have been roasted alive.

If he hadn't stopped Tsuna flame form reaching out to the teenager… things would have gotten very nasty, very quickly. One did not poke a potential Guardian when they were feeling that defensive, not unless you were ready for the consequences and prepared for a good fight. The kid had been a breath away from stepping into full-blown Dying Will Mode unassisted. Reborn may be the World's Greatest Hitman but even he wasn't immune to surprise and he didn't know what to expect from this kid, nothing to go on save for the fact he was somehow connected to Fon, possibly even related.

He had to say this about tutoring people with Sky-Flames, his job rarely stayed boring. If he wasn't keeping an eye out for assassins and keeping Tsuna from killing himself by accident, he was chasing off prospective Guardians and others drawn to his Flame.

It was a shame he'd had to stop Tsuna from reaching his Flames out. It had been the first time since he'd started teaching him that he'd actually willingly, (and without any prompting from him!), reached out with his flame of his own violation. Too bad it had to be for someone he was nowhere near ready for. The way Tsuna was now… that boy would eat him alive, if he even stopped to consider the thought after steamrollering over him. The Fon look-alike had been so uninterested in Tsuna that he hadn't even rated a second glance and barely even rated the first.

The balancing act of keeping prospective Guardians from accidentally killing their potential Sky without interfering with the fledgling bond was an extremely difficult act to pull off. Sky Attraction made fools of the best of men and there was nothing more dangerous, (to said Sky and everyone else who just happened to be in the area), than potential Guardians vying for attention. People were naturally drawn to Skies and not everyone reacted the same way to one. There were the typical lot who responded positively to Sky Attraction, (these always made for the best Guardians) and then there were the contrary few individuals that actively felt threatened by Sky Flames for whatever reason or outright disliked the sensation.

Whichever the case was you had to teach a Sky to flare their flames properly so that said potential Guardians didn't feel like they had to get too close to feel said flame. Either in order to 'test the fit' by kicking the proverbial 'tiers' of their potential boss or to take him out to end the threat.

You had to push a Sky to get them to flare their flames, but not too hard or it would either injure them or bury them alive under people crazed with either Sky Attraction or Rivalry, (which was a whole other kettle of fish that had him constantly on the lookout). You had to build up their confidence if their flames had ever been sealed, (like Tsuna's had been as a child), but not so much that their head would swell. You had to be firm so a Sky would listen to you as they were notoriously hard-headed and stubborn, but not so harsh that you'd end up driving them into rebellion or attack. A Tutor also had to be wary about keeping his, (or her), guard up so as not to be caught off-guard by Sky Attraction themselves and unintentionally go soft on said Sky.

Skies needed special handling and training, it was the ultimate three-ring circus act and it was precisely why Mafia Home Tutors were not only rare, but also HAD to be neutral. Or else already bonded to a Sky that had zero interest in the Sky being trained, because Sky Rivalry was not something one joked about.

Tsuna had just made his job more interesting.

What was it about this possible relative of Fon's that had made Tsuna reach out practically the instant he'd laid eyes on him? Sasagawa Ryohei wasn't even a blip on the radar in comparison of attention garnered, like the older teenager was a part of the white-washed background of the Tsuna's world. What did he see in the dark haired teenager that Reborn himself hadn't? He'd known training someone of the Vongola bloodline was going to be interesting but this was more than just interesting. Sasagawa Ryohei was a dead-ringer for Vongola Primo's Sun Guardian and Tsuna still walked past him every day without so much as batting an eyelash, even with the boy actively leaking Sun Flames everywhere he went.

Whoever the boy ended up being, whatever relation he had to Fon and whatever he was tangled up in… it was sure to interesting. A second potential Sun Guardian for Tsuna that he wouldn't even protest? What kind of Home Tutor would he be if he passed up the chance to acquire him for the Vongola?

At the very least he'd be a very bored one.

OoO

By the time Takeru staggered into the bowling alley that was one of the locations marked out on his map as abandoned he felt like he was fighting for every step he took. He kicked in a ground-level window from the cover of the alleyway and sighed in relief when it merely fell open instead of breaking. Good, that meant he wouldn't hurt himself getting in. It wasn't too difficult to navigate his way into the main area as he'd rolled his way into a storage room. The wide and open room would be the perfect place to destroy whatever was trying to drain him of his magic and release the pressure of keeping it all tucked in.

He didn't waste any time, he pulled the evidence box he'd stolen from the police station and dumped it out onto the dusty wooden floor. He kicked through the mess of papers and evidence bags looking for whatever was pulling at him and kicked it across the room, stalking after it with Gryffindor's sword in hand and spearing it before he could second-guess himself.

Takeru felt his eyes cross momentarily as the world shifted around him and felt his magic rush away from him and across the room. He didn't have to look to know that it was sweeping across the floors, walls and ceiling, cleaning and repairing everything it touched. Panting for breath he pressed his free hand against the burn he could feel in his chest and wondered why the heat hadn't dissipated with the release of magic. It should have but it hadn't, he was still baking from the inside out. He was going to need to read that book about Oversurge as soon as possible, he had to make sure this wasn't typical of the condition.

Straightening from where he'd hunched slightly over himself Takeru jerking the sword out of the now-dead object and poked it with the tip of the blade to see if he could provoke another reaction. It was a compass. A big antique gold one that looked it was both old and expensive. He didn't dare let his guard down, this thing had been sucking at his magic since he'd been dragged to the police station. He didn't care that the phantom touch of its feelers had disappeared the second he'd stabbed it.

He gave the thing one last poke with Gryffindor's Sword and took a startled leap backwards when the lid broke free of the body and clattered to the floor, staring at it and waiting for a good minute or so to make sure it really was dead. Taking a few more wary steps back Takeru stabbed the sword into the floor and unholstered his wand, letting the polished handle fall comfortably into his palm.

_"Revealio"_ Takeru cast, instinctively shading his eyes for the expected light-show but lowering his arm when he realized he'd done so for no reason. Whatever charms had been on the thing had snapped when he'd broken it.

_"Specialis Revelio"_ he tried, using a variation he'd learned trying to puzzle out the spells on the golden egg from the First Task of the Tri-wizard Tournament. If it still had enough magic in it he might be able to get a description of what the item was once used for. It hadn't worked on the egg because it had been made brand-new for the task and hadn't been used before he'd gotten it but perhaps with how old this was… there'd be enough magical residue left behind by its previous user to identify it.

_'Locator'_ wrote itself into the air above the compass in dark blue letters.

Takeru froze for a moment before flicking his wand, making what was left of the broken compass split apart to reveal its insides and the small curl of baby-fine black hair that lay nestled inside. The compass was a tracker designed to find a specific magical signature.

So this was how Dumbledore had managed to find him…

Takeru felt the heat inside him grow as the burning inside him grew stronger and all the anger he'd been suppressing started bubbling to the surface. He'd gotten all worked up over what had to be a variation of the modern-day tracking charm. One that drew its magic from its target. What a joke. All that fear and panic. The mess he'd gotten into at the police station. Having to turn his back on a member of his family for no real reason.

Banishing the broken compass and all of its bits and pieces, including the evidence bag it had been kept in, the lock of hair and whatever else the stupid compass was hiding Takeru holstered his wand. He went to sort through the rest of the assorted evidence and files he'd tipped out of the box when he felt what he could only describe as his 'hackles rising'.

Someone was watching him.

Someone tainted with the foul scent of Dark Magic. Had the compass managed to alert its owner before he'd killed it?

Wishing he hadn't lost his hat somewhere in the middle of the stupid 'fight' with the group of morons who'd nearly gotten him arrested, Takeru carefully levered Gryffindor's sword out of the floorboards he'd stabbed it into. It would have been nice to have something to hide behind, even if it was only large enough to hide his expression. He opened his mouth to call out whoever was watching him from the shadows of the room he'd used to break into the bowling alley, but was interrupted. By a soft voice that sounded like it was trying to be soothing.

"That's a beautiful sword."

Takeru bared his teeth and turned to face the speaker, searching through the darkness for the owner. Was this one of Dumbledore's men? Called here by the compass before he could destroy it? Didn't matter if it had. He wasn't going back to England, not unless it was to fulfil the promise he'd made to the real Harry Potter. If this person tried to force him to return to the Magical World there they were going to be in for a rather sharp surprise.

"Would you like a closer look?" he invited silkily, voice heavy with meaning as he shifted his grip on the handle into a more comfortable position.

One wrong move and this guy was going to go the same way Kreacher had, he'd do anything if it meant keeping his hard-won freedom.

OoO

Tsuna stared at the object he'd picked up from the river bank, a cream coloured ball of fluff, and absently rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Picking the fluffy thing off the desk he frowned at it and weighed it in his palm, wondering why the thing was still warm even though it had been sitting on his desk for the last few minutes. He'd taken a shower and changed! It shouldn't still be warm to the touch!

"Reborn, you didn't touch this did you?" He asked, draping his towel around his shoulders so he could run a finger across its surface.

A soft snore was his only answer.

Rolling his eyes at the typical response Tsuna combed his fingers through the soft fur and jumped when the thing started to shiver under his touch. Pulling his fingers back sharply he blinked at the thing for a long moment and wondered if he'd accidentally turned on a switch or something when a pair of baby blue eyes slid open. It wasn't until the little thing in his hand yawned widely, showing off a rather impressive row of tiny little kitten teeth, that he realized the thing in his hands wasn't electrical.

_"Hiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~! IT'S ALIVE!"_


	11. Chapter 11

.

Takeru didn't know which emotion to blame the screaming in his head on: fear was a big one, so was anger. He was frustrated and half out of his mind with resentment. It was all balled up together into one tight and tangled _knot_ that was threatening to tip him into the same mental red-zone he'd fallen into in Dumbledore's office and Grimmauld Place. He wanted to scream, cry, and break everything in the room he'd just accidentally fixed. He wanted to run and hide and attack at the same time.

He didn't want to acknowledge it… but he recognized that voice.

The doubts he'd had the whole way from England came roaring to the surface; he'd thought someone in his family had been in on the plan with Dumbledore… had he just found that person? In spite of himself, he'd fostered the small and fragile hope that he'd actually be able to return to the home he'd been so cruelly taken away from and at the very least live a little of the life that had been stolen from him. That hope… dimmed down to practically nothing within the instant the voice spoke out from the darkness.

"What's wrong? Why did you go quiet all of a sudden?" he called out into the darkness, voice light as he relaxed his tightly wound body and pushed all of his screaming emotions to the side. He couldn't afford to lose himself more than he already had; he was just going to have to push it all away until he had the luxury to deal with it, which meant _later_. He'd been playing the perfect golden boy for long enough that he knew how to do it, Hogwarts had been a learning experience there. "Didn't you want a better look? Come closer, I don't bite, I promise."

Even if the voice that had spoken belonged to his other uncle, Fon.

At least he didn't have to hold his magic back anymore and now that he'd loosened that grip, he was pretty damned sure there was no one else in the room apart from himself and his 'guest'. The downside of that was getting a better taste of that dark magic wafting off his Uncle in waves. What had once felt like a faint magical 'stench' now had a clear source, one that he could almost taste.

Never had he been so grateful that his typical reaction to fear was a poker-face, living with the Dursleys had been good for at least one thing.

He would have preferred to continue spying on his family without being discovered, find out what they were like behind closed doors and out of the public eye. See if their public image matched up to what they acted like in private. He'd just had that choice taken out of his hands but that didn't mean he was completely without options.

He could play his prior show of aggression off on the fact he'd been attacked earlier that night; there was no reason for anyone to suspect he had access to his stolen memories. If Fon was one of Dumbledore's men, (and even if he wasn't), he wouldn't expect to be recognized. He could salvage this and might even get information out of the "horse's mouth".

This was either someone that had helped kidnap him away from the life he should have lived or this was one more person Dumbledore's schemes had harmed. He didn't know which one it was but jumping to conclusions would just ultimately make the truth that much harder to find. He wanted that truth, so much so that it felt like it was burning him from the inside out.

Confronting someone so saturated in Dark Magic was bound to be dangerous but at this point he was close to not caring at all.

He was going to learn the truth of his uncle's part in his kidnapping or die trying.

The first step was to get the man to start talking, about anything. See what kind of information the man dropped. If he moved to pull out a wand he was confident that he could defend himself, his magic would help him; he was that agitated.

He couldn't see the man from where he was standing but he could feel him. A tall figure that was so steeped in Dark Magic that he could almost make out a shape standing in the shadows, an ink-black darkness that stuck out of the shadows like a sore thumb. Takeru swallowed back the bile as it rose up in the back of his throat and wished he wasn't quite so sensitive to magic now.

Because that scent? It was _disgusting_.

OoO

Fon didn't dare make any sudden movements.

The last thing he wanted right now was to push Takeru into his Dying Will. His flames were already blistering to the surface, brought up out of the depths of his soul in response to the fear practically saturating the air around him.

Takeru had little to no experience with swordsmanship; that much was obvious by how and where he was gripping the hilt of the sword he was holding. In entirely the wrong place and far too tightly. The teenager also seemed to have just about the same experience with hand-to-hand combat, the way his other hand formed a fist _around_ his thumb said it all. A serious hit landed with a fist formed like that and he'd break his thumb, anyone who'd had a shred of formal training or experience with fighting knew that within the first lesson or fight.

Fon wanted to call his sister and tell her where her long-lost son was, a small part of him even wanted to let her deal with the situation because he didn't want to be responsible for the inevitable fallout and pain.

He really was the worst kind of coward.

Yun wouldn't be the best person to confront Takeru right now anyway, not with how defensive he was being. The explosive set of emotions meeting the seething miasma that was Takeru would only end in disaster. He could do this much for the little sister he had so irrevocably hurt; responsibility for the kidnapping lay squarely on his shoulders and if he could atone for even a small part of that then he would. Yun had suffered enough, he would not put this on her; if Takeru's Flames had to be safely defused, who better to do that than himself?

"What's wrong? Didn't you want a closer look?" Takeru asked, his voice lightening up from the feral tone he'd greeted him with into something resembling innocence, a poker-face sliding onto his face with effortless and alarming ease.

Fon knew better than to be fooled into thinking Takeru was in any way calmer than he had been, even as he watched his nephew's body relax into a loose limbed stance. Takeru seemed to have inherited a rather large share of his mother's ability. Only a natural hitman physically relaxed in the face of a threat, anyone else would tense up. He also seemed to have no idea his flames were giving the act away, tinting his eyes into a golden shade and hiding the natural blue he'd been born with.

That meant he had little to no experience with flames, which at the moment was in no way a blessing. One wrong move and Takeru would step into Dying Will Mode unprepared.

Fon's heart ached: how could he ever atone for this?

Takeru's Flames were spluttering and hissing, flaring and flickering, guttering almost completely out and then roaring right back up again in a frenzied and uncontrolled blaze. He wasn't a doctor but he didn't have to be one to recognize the signs of a Scorching. He'd been with the Triad for long enough to spot the tell-tale signs of damage caused by someone caught between two Skies, both of whom had been Pulling hard. It happened often with spies and double agents from other famiglias who got in too far, with Bosses thought to turn said spy native, poach them for themselves. It tore their flame and burned them, and worse still, if done extensively enough it could not be healed.

Rather than shaping Takeru into the potential Guardian he'd been born to be, the constant Pull on his flame had instead turned those natural-inborn instincts in on themselves. Pushed the instincts of a Hitman forward and shredded Takeru's Guardian potential into a mess, he was running on pure survival now. The will to protect that was intrinsic in a potential Guardian had become a Hitman's will to survive and the flames that had once unconsciously explored the world around him were now focused so tightly inwards that it had to be a very uncomfortable if not outright painful.

Depending on how severe the injury to his flame was, there was every possibility that he could slip into Discord at any moment, if he wasn't there already. There was no way to tell if the intensity in Takeru's eyes was fear or the first stages of the madness unique to broken flame users.

What kind of life had Takeru lived that had caught him up against two Skies?

The part of him that wasn't taking in every little detail that he could of Takeru and his condition was mentally ticking through a list of every Sky he'd ever met or heard of. When they got Takeru to a hospital they'd be able to get a sample of the flames that had so injured him. It was a good thing Skies were so rare, it wouldn't take very long to find the matching flames among them.

It was nothing he couldn't… _deal_ with later, he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to defuse the situation and get Takeru to calm down enough so he could determine how bad the damage was. Do what little he could until they could get Takeru to a doctor and get him the care he needed. The first step of which was stepping out into view; continuing to lurk in the shadows would just make Takeru feel even more anxious than he already was, especially if he was reading his body language right and Takeru really was a Natural Hitman.

There wasn't a lot that he could see of the sweet-tempered two-year-old that he had been, but maybe it wasn't too late! Takeru was _so_ scared right now that it was in every line of his body, regardless of how he tried to hide it. Fear made animals of the best of people, how could he expect a thirteen-year-old to be any different? He needed to show that he'd come with no intention to harm, it was the only way to calm him down and it would be the fastest way to bring an end Takeru's suffering.

He'd finally been found and it was time to take him home.

He'd do anything to make it happen.

OoO

"Now that I'm looking at you closer... you're actually, really… cute."

Sawada Tsunayoshi got down on his hands and knees and flattened an ear to the floor so he could get a better look under his bed. The more time he spent looking at the cream coloured ball of fluff that he'd picked up from the river, the more he felt the nervous tension slide out of him. Now that he'd gotten over most of the shock of finding out the fluffy little thing was actually a living, breathing creature, he couldn't quite get his mind wrapped around how cute it actually was.

There really was no other way of looking at the thing now, even with how it was hissing at him.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you~!" He crooned softly, a hesitant grin slipping onto his face as his nerves calmed further.

It hissed at him again.

"… That was the least threatening hiss I've ever heard!" Tsuna laughed softly, keeping his tone and the laughter as even as possible in order to keep the kitten-like animal calm. "It's okay," he repeated, "Come here~!" Reaching out a steady and, hopefully warm, hand Tsuna scooped the little thing out from the corner it had wedged itself into and sat back on his heels.

"There, there." he soothed, cradling it up against his chest so it wouldn't escape back into its hiding place. "It's fine now, I'm sorry for dropping you~! I promise I won't do it again! I'll get you back to your friend as soon as I find him again okay?" he asked the thing as he pet its fur smooth.

"You're just a baby, aren't you?" he asked it, smiling down into baby blue eyes. The growling had even started to calm down. He could hardly believe he'd been so afraid of it earlier!

"There we go, I wonder if we've got somewhere safe for you to sleep…"

Casting his eyes around the room Tsuna gently set the little thing on his bed, carefully cupping his hands around it so it wouldn't bounce away. "I'm sure I can find something…"

There was a shoebox in his cupboard, if he used a hand towel or something would that be comfortable enough? "Just sit here for a little bit? I just need to get something from the cupboard." He waited a breath as he let go of the fluff ball, just to see if it wouldn't immediately jump off his bed the first chance it got, and let out a relieved sigh when it simply sat there staring at him. It looked like it was starting to trust him a little!

"Good boy…" Tsuna murmured as he picked himself up, backing away carefully so as not to startle the little baby unnecessarily. He was about halfway to inching his cupboard open to retrieve the shoebox when a shape swooped in through the open window in a flurry of dark feathers and demonic gold eyes.

"HIIIIIEEEEE~!" Tsuna shrieked, ducking to the ground and covering his head.

There was a loud squeak and the ungodly mass of feathers that had swooped into his room dive-bombed his bed. Before he could even process what had happened, the little ball of cream coloured fluff was snatched up in between the gleaming black talons of the thing that had come in through the window. It was there and gone within one wingbeat and the next, powerful wings sweeping it out of his room with the same swift efficiency it had used to get inside in the first place.

"_NO! STOP!" _Tsuna yelled after the bird, lunging for the window, panic induced tears pricking up in the corners of his eyes. _"Don't eat him!"_

He didn't even make it to the window sill; a length of rope looped around him and he was suddenly hog-tied to his bed, the ropes somehow lassoing him to the mattress. Reborn landed on his stomach and the breath was knocked out of him. "You're so troublesome, getting bent out of shape over a powderpuff."

"He's going to get EATEN!" Tsuna wheezed, trying to wriggle himself free of the bindings. "He's just a baby!"

Reborn sighed and hopped up so he could knock the wind out of him for a second time. "Calm down Dame-Tsuna. If you're that worried I'll check it out… in return, tomorrow's training menu is going to double."

"Hiiiiiieeeeeee~!"

OoO

The answers were right in front of him.

Takeru made no move to put away Gryffindor's sword, simply relaxed further as his senses stretched out to map the entire room. He knew that if he had to he could knock down the door behind him and dart out into the hallway if he had to, possibly find a way into the rest of the building. The storage room was spacious but it was also littered with abandoned pieces of shelving, empty crates and rotted cardboard boxes. He didn't like the thought of having to plan out an escape route but if he had to do it, he'd run. He hadn't come this far only to be taken back to the life he'd just escaped.

He was halfway through opening his mouth out to call out to the voice that hadn't responded when the breath caught in his throat; a person had leapt out of the darkness and into the clearest patch of moonlight. Takeru's eyes widened and the poker face he'd been wearing slipped a bit in shock. Given the aura he'd been sensing he'd been expecting a fully grown adult, hell he'd even half expected a teenager his own age! As scattered as his memories were at the moment he was sure he remembered playing games with this particular uncle as a baby… they'd looked the same age when he'd been kidnapped! That had been eleven years ago! Why did his uncle still look the same age?

Slightly curling sleek black hair so similar to his own, partially tied back in a thin braid. Loose red Chinese style shirt. White pants. Everything was the same; it was as if he hadn't aged a day in those eleven years. His Uncle Fon immediately lowered himself directly from where he'd leapt out of the shadows and sat down on his knees facing him. The toddler staring straight into his face with familiar russet-brown eyes shaded with intense regret. Tiny hands reached out from long, voluminous sleeves to clasp together in front of his face, flat palm over fist in a greeting he was only familiar with thanks to Syaoran.

Was he actually going to be able to get the answers he wanted? With the way his Uncle was looking at him… he didn't think getting answers out of him would be hard, he just wondered if he could _trust_ those answers. He thought things would be clear cut and straight, how naïve. Nothing about his situation could be called clear-cut.

"My name is Fon." His Uncle said, head dipping into the same bow Syaoran had given the bank clerk in Magical Tokyo, eyes never leaving his for even an instant. "It is a pleasure making your acquaintance; may I have your name?"

Takeru felt his eyes start to narrow and breathed in slowly though his nose to stop the expression from taking over his face. "Sorry..." he replied, keeping the tone in his voice flat as he let the stress bleed out of him with the word. "I don't give my name out to strangers."

The silence left behind in the wake of his words was heavy. Cold on his part, which was something he really couldn't help. It was either the cold or the heat and he had a feeling if he let even a little bit of the heat out… he wouldn't be able to rein it back in. Cold was good though, just the right side of impersonal to sound like he really was talking to a stranger instead of lying through his teeth.

Shifting his own eyes away from the direct gaze, Takeru made a show of turning his back on his toddler-sized Uncle and waited for half a heartbeat, seeing if he'd take advantage of his 'distraction'. He was fast, faster than he'd been in years. If he was attacked in any way while his back was turned he was confident enough in his own abilities that he knew he'd be able to dodge.

Gryffindor's sword was starting to feel heavy in his hands; could he really use it to spear through a blood relation like he had with Kreacher? The blood… would spread. Just like it had with the deranged house-elf. He… didn't want that. His wand should be enough to deal with someone that size, right? A stunner would be enough to take him down, hell even a minor binding spell like the leg-locker curse, a confundus charm could be just as effective.

"What are you doing out so late at night? Won't your parents be worried for you?" his uncle asked stiltedly, awkwardly attempting to start a conversation. Fon hadn't moved a hair's breadth from where he'd sat down, not even when he'd turned his back. Slipping out of the light himself, Takeru returned Gryffindor's sword into his satchel, taking care to shield what he was doing from view. He didn't think he'd be able to make himself use of the sword, no matter what he thought his uncle had done. It was one thing to accidentally hurt someone, quite another to actually plan on doing so. He wasn't that far gone.

He moved to the door and tested the door handle to give himself a reason for hiding what he was doing and let the satchel return to cuff form. His wand was easily accessible; it was a flick of his wrist away from dropping into his hand, he wasn't defenceless without the sword… he was just a lot less deadly.

The door was locked. Well, it wasn't like he couldn't kick it down, it was an old door. He could pick it too but he didn't want to take his attention off of his guest for that long. Stepping back into view, Takeru kicked the mess he'd made of the evidence box that he'd taken from the police station into a pile and crouched down to shove it all back into the box. "I could ask you that same question, isn't it past your nap time?" Takeru shot back frostily, shoving the lid on the box, just barely stopping himself from crushing it.

His uncle shifted uncomfortably, the first true sign of a visible emotion that Takeru had managed to observe from the painfully polite and stiff toddler. "I... I'm considerably older than I appear. Please, don't go. I just... I would like to talk, only talk," he begged, something very fragile and brittle sounding in his voice. Something that told him, on more than one level, that if he actually left like he'd been half tempted to do, he may very well break his uncle.

Takeru chewed his lower lip as his stomach twisted and clenched. He knew.

Victim or offender. He'd been looking for signs of which of the two Fon was, had been leaning towards the latter upon feeling that aura but now… that had been genuine emotion. Fon knew who he was and he now knew which Fon was. Victim. There was raw desperation in the toddler's eyes, of the same kind he kept seeing every time he caught sight of his own reflection. The magic he'd stretched across the room pulled back and coalesced around his uncle in a thick cocoon. Testing, touching and waiting for some kind of sign the baby-sized man was a threat. If he'd been magical there was no way he wouldn't have reacted, at the very least Fon's own magic would have responded, no wizard was that numb to magic. Fon didn't even react when he purposely shoved his magic into spearing forward, stopping it barely a millimetre away from the toddler's face.

Fon was a victim, very possibly not one of Dumbledore's; the Curse felt nothing like the headmaster's handiwork.

"So talk." Takeru said, letting his magic relax out of his hold and away. He could use the time to figure out where that disgusting aura was coming from, because it was definitely coming from Fon, just not from him directly. "… considerably older than you look? Exactly how much older? Five-ten years?" Takeru asked lightly, straightening up to his feet. The sickening feeling that was wafting off his uncle didn't feel like the Headmaster's magic at all. It felt much… darker. So much darker than anything he'd encountered in Dumbledore's trunk.

"I'll be turning fifty two this year." Fon replied.

Fifty?! That was long before he was even born! There was a possibility that his uncle had met Dumbledore in his younger years but… it made no sense for the Headmaster to target one man. Especially if that man was a muggle! Fon was a muggle that much was very obvious, but there was something magical about him. Or rather something magical DONE to him. He was Cursed, and it was a nasty Curse to boot.

Exactly what was his family mixed up in that had gotten his uncle so thoroughly cursed? A Curse strong enough to make his teeth ache would need some sort of anchor but where was it? Getting to his feet again, Takeru stood in front of his suddenly frozen uncle and stared down at him, trying to pin-point the source of the bile-inducing magical stench permeating the room.

Digging his fingernails into his palms, Takeru forced himself to focus, he really shouldn't be having this much trouble pin-pointing it—

His eyes almost slid right over it; would have if the thing he was searching for hadn't started glowing. The object hanging from a chain around his uncle's neck was the same red as the loose shirt he was wearing and blended into the red fabric. It had been nearly invisible in the moonlight. It wasn't so invisible now. It was glowing a bright golden colour and the aura surrounding it was rapidly expanding.

Without thinking, Takeru pushed forward through the preternatural stench surrounding it and reached out to snatch the thing away from his uncle, there was no way the thing wasn't polluting him! That had to feel horrible on at least _some_ level! At the very least it had stopped his uncle from aging normally! "Why are you _wearing_ that? Can't you see it's Curs-"

"_**TAKERU! NO!"**_

His fingers never managed to close in over it. The Cursed object his uncle was wearing sensed the threat to its continued existence and lashed out. He had enough time to see his uncle's face twist into horrified shock before he was blasted backwards by a tidal wave of pure scarlet _heat_.

He hit the wall with a sickening internal crunch that felt not unlike the time he'd broken his arm so many years ago and felt himself slide down the wall.

That… had been a mistake.

Wheezing as he crumpled sideways to the floor Takeru felt his uncle cradle his head in his small hands, the toddler-sized adult was at his side before he could even fully finish slumping. There was also a figure silhouetted in the light coming in from the ground floor window he'd used to get into the room, another baby his uncle's size. Cutting through the darkness was another Cursed object similar to the one that had just kicked him into the wall, only the other one was yellow instead of red.

"How is that… even possible?" Takeru coughed out, confusion settling in as black spots started dancing across his vision. "It's… linked? Why would he have… bothered…"

"Takeru! No! Stay awake! _Takeru!_ _**TAKERU!**_"

OoO

Reborn rarely made mistakes.

As much as he liked cultivating the rumours of his supposed demonic and/or godly origins, he'd had his moments. Who hadn't? In the end he was still just as human as the rest of humanity. He was luckier than some and smarter than most. He could spot a hazardous situation from a mile away and side-step it with all of the style, grace and skill of the World's Greatest Hitman.

Sometimes though, (as rare and as few and far between as they were), he was blindsided by something he couldn't predict and he was buried under the avalanche of all the bad luck he'd been dodging over the years. Like he'd been saving it all up for one massive cluster-fuck, as if Karma had finally decided to cash it all in and pop a gigantic gaping hole in his ego to bring him down a size. Or thirty. The last time he'd made a mistake quite this large, he'd lost that many years in the blink of an eye and 'Sun Arcobaleno' had been added to his collection of titles.

The pacifier might as well have been the medal he'd won for it: his Dumbest Mistake to date. Or rather, it _had_ been his dumbest mistake; he might have just made another to match it.

The only good thing about situations like this was the opportunity to learn from such a mistake, the eye-opening revelations he was treated to. The information revealed to him would be invaluable in the future, if he survived.

In this particular instance… he hadn't known there was anything in the world that could upset Fon. Anger was an emotion that just didn't exist in the man. Thirty years of acquaintance with the Storm Arcobaleno and he'd never once seen the man so much as squint an eye in annoyance. Not even Skull could piss the man off, even when they'd all first met and the then-teenager had actively been single-mindedly targeting him and trying his best to provoke a reaction. Skull had mastered the art of pissing off the wrong people, yet Fon had merely found the teenager amusing.

Fon was the oasis of calm in the middle of chaos that was the rest of the Arcobaleno, the one solid fixture that was guaranteed to stay the same. The human personification of a Polarized Storm, the example held up to all others of what a Polarized Storm should be. Not an actual Storm, but the eye of it. Always calm as everything around him went to hell, back and beyond. Fon had a seemingly eternal fuse to his patience and nothing anyone did ever seem to change that.

Alternative to that, it seemed he'd just discovered Fon's Berserk Button. By stepping all over it. No, bellyflopped. There was no way that had been anything so graceful as a step. Proverbial bellyflop sounded about right though.

His students were rubbing off on him.

Fon was cradling the head of the unconscious teenager Tsuna had been so curious about, sitting in the heart of the vortex that was building up around the man in a steadily increasing tornado of crimson flames.

"Reborn…" Fon's hair-raisingly calm voice cracked through the hissing heat. "Why did you come here?" the Storm Arcobaleno breathed, head tilting up at him and affixing him with his eyes glowing the same ember-red as the heat of his Storm Attribute.

Oh. He hadn't known Fon had the potential, (and quite possibly the ability), to step into Hyper Dying Will Mode. Wasn't that an interesting piece of information? In all the years he'd known the man, Fon had never once had to push himself to his absolute limits. How very humbling. Lady Luck was ever so generous in providing him the opportunity to bring his evidently bloated ego down to size. Again.

Fon's flames were disintegrated everything they weren't burning. Boxes burned away to nothing in a flash, shelving made of metal half-melted and the rest dissolved under the intense pressure. The foundations of the room were rapidly being exposed and the tornado of flames was still expanding. If he didn't stop this then the building would collapse over on top of the two still inside the room and while he was confident Fon would survive it, he wasn't quite so sure of the unconscious teenager's chances.

If this was the way Fon reacted to the boy being injured, he didn't want to see what would happen should the boy die.

Damage control. He needed to do some. Now.

"I know a doctor. I can call him. He's the best doctor I know. We need to get… the boy to safety and... get him out. Of the building. I—he needs medical attention, this isn't the best place to get it—"

The taut silence that stretched while waiting for Fon to decide his next action was one of the longest and most uncomfortable moments of his life. One that was broken by the sounds of oncoming sirens. The lick of flames in Fon's eyes dialled down to a faint ember and the red started to bleed out of the flames fanning the room into a blaze. The building was still burning, but the walls, ceiling and floors were no longer melting.

"If you would be so kind as to call him. I would appreciate it."

Reborn had Leon in hand before the Storm finished speaking. He tried to ignore feeling of sweat beading down his neck and dialled a familiar number. Well, that had been exciting. He didn't think he'd ever been quite so grateful to hear sirens in his life. One of the bystanders outside must have called them, how thoughtful. A gift basket? He should show his appreciation.

It seemed like he hadn't known Fon as well as he thought he did. He'd always wondered why their group had needed a Strongest Martial Artist when they'd already had the Strongest Hitman on the team. Now he knew. Reborn role was to take the enemy apart from a distance; Fon's was to take them apart with his bare hands.

"Shamal? Come to Namimori. Now. I have a patient for you."

Ignoring Shamal's protests, Reborn hung up and leapt down into the room to help get the teenager out of the building and retreated a good distance away afterwards as fire engines came into view. A few more calls and he had an ambulance with a full medic team on the way for Shamal to make use of. Watching the area get cordoned off from his vantage point at the top of a nearby fence, Reborn tilted his fedora over his face and ignored the band of dampness that clung to the inside. He was also firmly not thinking about the moisture soaking his body from collar to ankle with cold sweat.

That had been a rather close call.

He'd always expected to die a shitty dog's death – but death via Fon was about as far from his expected manner of demise as he expected to get.

Takeru, huh?

Interesting name for a Berserk Button.

Reborn shifted his fedora out of the way to catch sight of the handsome black owl that had led him to the building and grimaced. It was sat sleek and elegant at the top of a telephone pole, staring down its beak at him with fearless, unblinking Sun-gold eyes meeting his own with a steady and even gaze. The little ball of fluff was in no danger of being eaten; it was sat pressed up against the bird's claws, lovingly pressing into the magnificent bird's body with a chirr of pure delight.

Reborn tilted the fedora back over his face. Forget doubling Tsuna's training, he was going to _quadruple_ it.

OoO

You couldn't ignore a summons from Reborn.

There were times you could take your sweet time answering said summons; it was all in the tone of voice the Sun Arcobaleno used to convey the order, he could say a lot in a surprisingly small amount of words. A lazy and leisurely tone said, 'As long as it doesn't take you a month', an edge of amusement or anticipation to said amusement said, 'Don't take longer than a week'. The absence of any emotion said something else.

Reborn hadn't minced any words with him this time; a sharp order to come to Namimori _now_ told him that the situation he was about to was either hot and about to get hotter or dire for the patient in question. Quite possibly both. That meant, 'Drop anything and everything. Get here as fast as inhumanly possible'.

The presence of flames in Namimori, (who could miss the lingering after-taste of Storm Flames hanging over the town?) said _something_ had gone down. That meant there'd be no real danger or the danger had been taken out. So, just patients in dire need of quality medical attention? Not too bad.

Well, as long as they were female.

Not exactly surprising, the town felt like it had been hit by a hurricane, had the Seven Storms swept through town? The independent Mercenary team were acquaintances of Reborn's, but they were professionals before that. They wouldn't have backed down from a contracted hit if they'd accepted it, no matter who their opponent had turned out to be.

Barring them, he couldn't think of anyone who could flood the town with this much pure Storm Flame and still have it lingering in the air in the time it had taken him to get here after Reborn's call. There really weren't any other Storm users of that strength that had the balls to go up against Reborn.

His phone rang

"… how did you know I'd made it into town already?" Shamal drawled, answering the phone. "There's no way you could have predicted which train I was—"

"Get to the hospital. Now." Reborn responded, cutting through the question and abruptly hanging up in the next second.

As tempted as he was to dawdle his way there in response to the sharp tone, Shamal didn't risk it; he didn't have to read between the lines here, Reborn would gut him in retaliation. Pocketing his phone, he power-walked over to the nearest idling taxi and knocked on the window.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked him as he tossed his suitcase into the back seat.

"Namimori General Hospital." Shamal replied sourly as he settled into the passenger's seat.

"Oh, are you visiting someone?"

"No, I'm a doctor."

OoO

He met a Flame-medic waiting for him at the entrance to the hospital, green armband around the sleeve of his medic's uniform giving away his attribute. The man took his luggage and handed him a file, leading him into the hospital and giving him a rundown of the injuries he could expect. A private operating room had been freed up and his patient had been prepped for him. All he needed to do was show up, disinfect and be ready to perform.

A nurse on attachment to the Flame-medics Reborn had to have called in to assist him took the file from him as he entered the scrub room and held it up for him as he prepped for whatever surgery he was being expected to do. He was halfway through finished scrubbing up when the gender of his patient caught up with him.

"Oi, Reborn! You know I don't treat men!" he protested, gritting his teeth in irritation. How many times was Reborn going to pull this kind of shit on him? He did. Not. Treat. Men. Not even the little ones.

The safety of a gun clicked off.

"I am not putting up with your shit this time."

Reborn landed on the sink next to him wearing child-sized scrubs and had a gun levelled at his head. "Treat him." A tense stand-off would have ensued had a soft voice not interrupted.

"Please, if you can make a special exception for just this one patient. He's only thirteen years old."

"I'm always being asked to make that ONE special exception!" Shamal snapped, turning to face the speaker. "What makes him so special that I'll actually MAKE that exception this tim—"

Fon. The Storm Arcobaleno. Whose eyes were glowing with the beginning embers of his Storm Flame. The same feeling of which was currently sitting heavily over Namimori like a storm threatening to break and was starting to swell up into a higher concentration in the room.

"He's my nephew." Fon answered his cut-off question simply. "Please. Heal him."

Fon bowed deep and low, the movement hiding the edges of flame creeping up behind his eyes. "Please."

Shamal felt himself break out into a cold sweat. Well, with a request phrased quite so politely… how could he possibly refuse?

"Ju—just stay out of the operating room, you'll get in the way."

OoO

Hibari Takeru, age thirteen.

If Shamal hadn't had the evidence directly in front of him he'd have thought the teenager he'd been 'asked' to treat was a completely separate individual than the one he'd met at the airport. It hadn't taken very long for him to make it to Namimori from where he had been when he'd gotten Reborn's call, he'd already been headed in the general direction anyway, following up on a lead on the Sun Reborn had told him to track down.

Who was apparently Fon's nephew. Fon's. Nephew. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea.

The kid had somehow slipped out of Tokyo without being noticed and had been spotted wandering around a quaint little town about twenty minutes away by train. Shamal had been a little sceptical at the authenticity of the information his source had given him. The kid had practically been a wreck, there was no way he'd have made it to Tomoeda under his own steam, let alone run all over the town like he was possessed. Dying Will Flames might have let you overcome certain limits but they certainly weren't superpowers, they came at a cost.

The most the teenager's flame had been capable of was keeping him alive and upright, that had been it, and he'd been impressed with that alone. The kind of willpower the boy had to have to keep standing after sustaining that kind of damage might have been on a whole other level, but he'd been at his absolute limit. The immature and near-broken flame hadn't, and still wasn't, enough to explain away what he was seeing right now.

The paper-thin and near translucent skin was now pink and healthy, if still pale. He was bruised thanks to the reported knock into the wall but that wasn't anything an application of Sun Flames couldn't fix. Fried nerves had healed. Over-worked and torn muscles had rested. The body that had been a sneeze away from complete shut-down was now in the pink of health.

It was enough to make him second-guess his own recollection, that or wonder if he was finally losing his mind. He had to have gotten medical attention somewhere between Tokyo and here, it was the only explanation. Aside from the bruises and fractured rib, which was also easily fixed with an application of flames under his direction, there was nothing physically wrong with him.

The only thing that gave lie to the boy's apparent health was his flames, and that was really all he needed to understand what kind of life the kid had led. He read the abuse off it like a map, years of starvation and confinement. Of stress and very little rest. No official training yet pitted up against opponents that had left deep injuries that had about a snowball's chance in hell of healing.

"Hand me the sample containers." He instructed shortly to the medical team that had been 'assigned' to him upon his arrival.

He needed to remove all trace of the foreign flames that had caused the injuries before he could even think of trying to heal them anyway. It was an extremely delicate process, but if he did it carefully enough they might even be able to get a usable, and traceable, sample out of it.

"Rain, keep him calm. Sun, concentrate on his ribs and bruises, nothing else. Everyone else keep your flames to yourselves."

He didn't have to say why, they were all trained professionals. A flame injury this severe was obvious to anyone with any kind of medical training. It would be a marvel all on its own if they could get the kid's flame to stabilize before he tripped over the hair thin edge he was hovering over and fell into Discord.

Already he could tell the boy was never going to have a fully functioning flame, at least not in the fullest sense of the word. One day, with the right treatment and therapy, he may be able to learn how to use his flames the way they were meant to be used, to heal or to fight, whichever…

But he'd never know the feeling of a fully realized flame, there wasn't a Mist in the world who had the flames it would take to fully heal him. The thirteen-year-old had half the joy of being a flame user ripped away from him before his flame could even mature. He would never feel Flame Attraction, wouldn't even register Sky Attraction. He would never feel the safety and protection that came part and parcel with standing next to a comrade in arms or the warmth of a lover's flame.

Achieving Harmony would be a miracle.

The two Skies that had so cheated a teenager out of the greatest joy a Flame User could ever experience were going to get what was coming to them, and he was going to help that along. Fon was waiting outside for the results. There were precious few Skies in the world and by the time the Storm Arcobaleno got through them all, there'd be two less than there had been. Luckily the two signatures were so vastly different from each other, it made separating them into their own vials easy, easier than it was extracting them in the first place.

He lost track of how long it took to piece the kid's flame back together and repair what little of the damage done to it that he could; he had to switch places with the Mist medics halfway through for a breather. He'd used his own flame to 'patch' over the areas where the kid's flame channels were damaged; that would hopefully work by tricking the kid's flame into thinking the areas had been repaired by his own system, it was like putting a 'Band-Aid' over the injury. The Mist flames would eventually fade, but by then they'd have coaxed the boy's flames into taking over to complete the healing process, Sun Flame users really did make his life easier in that respect.

The delicate network of flames running through the boy's body was already on its way to healing now. The Mist flames were settling over the broken sections of 'veins' and the interrupted Sun Flames started flowing through them like they belonged there almost immediately. Given enough time, with rest and relaxation being top priority, he'd make quite the recovery. Not a complete one, but enough that he'd no longer be in danger of falling to pieces at the next sharp tug on his Flame.

Thankfully the boy hadn't rejected his Flame. He wouldn't have liked going out to inform Fon and the strangely silent Reborn that the kid had gone into Discord over Rejection.

They'd have eaten him alive.

Spreading his flame out across the rest of the teenager's system, he added an extra layer of protection over the top. Reborn was in Namimori for a reason and given his secrecy and interest in the kid, he was probably training another Sky. Given the purity of the young Hibari's flames, it wouldn't be long before someone Pulled for the kid again. He wasn't completely heartless.

Once upon a nearly forgotten time ago, he'd come dangerously close to the position the kid was in right now, caught between two circling Skies who'd both been attracted to his Mist flame. It had taken _leaving the country_ for a good five solid years and a lot of desperate ducking afterwards to escape their attentions, and he'd only managed that because both had found other Mist Guardians in the meantime. Had he not taken those measures… this was the kind of injury he'd have looked forward to. He'd had the option to escape; Hibari Takeru clearly hadn't had that option. Until now.

If a Sky tried to grab for the kid's flames before they were completely healed, they were going to be in for a surprise and a half. A nice, Mist-inspired, mule-kick to the proverbial teeth.

He didn't like being reminded about that time in his life, didn't like seeing the result of it in others. But so help him if he was going to heal the kid and then throw him back to the proverbial wolves. If Reborn thought he was going to get a Sun Guardian out of this kid for whatever Sky he was training, he was going to have to damn well wait and see if it happened on its own.

If it ever did.

"It's all up you now kid, the choice is all yours." He muttered, stepping back from the operation table and pulling his hands back away from where the worst of the injuries had been: the kid's forehead and heart. It truly was now his choice to make now; without being able to feel any kind of flame attraction, the kid would be able to pick and choose the kind of future he wanted without any kind of flame-based manipulation whatsoever.

If Reborn ever caught on to what he'd done, and he probably would, he could always hide behind Fon. Strongarm him into treating a patient he didn't want? He didn't think so. At the very least he knew Fon would stand behind what he'd done, it was all in the name of the healing he'd asked for.

Let him try to argue around that.

OoO

When word reached him about the accident involving a young teenager and two toddlers being pulled out of a burning building, Kiriyama Toshiya knew he had to check it out. When he got to the hospital, he was informed by the staff that the two toddlers had been cleared as healthy but the teenager that had been brought in at the same time was currently in surgery.

He felt his heart sink.

"Do you have the name of the kid brought in?" he asked the receptionist, heart sinking further when she couldn't provide one.

"I need to speak with his doctor." He said; he wasn't taking any arguments.

"He's still in surgery but you can wait for him in the waiting room with the others." The receptionist responded. "Paediatrics ward, if you go to the receptionist there she'll be able to direct you to the right waiting room."

"Others?" he asked, frowning.

"The two other children brought in with him, they're really quite sweet, they wanted to make sure their friend was alright before leaving." The woman giggled, pink tinting her cheeks. "You'll know them when you see them, they're adorable."

He recognized Satoshi's brother-in-law immediately when he got there; they'd met a number of times previously, nice guy, but thank god neither of Yun's kids had inherited the guy's dwarfism. How someone so calm could be the older brother of Hibari Yun was anyone's guess; the woman was, putting it nicely, a spaz. Fon's companion was a new face though.

"Fon-san, it's good to see you again. Is this a friend of yours?" he asked, looking down at the dark haired and eyed individual sitting on the chair next to Fon's. The one dressed as a doctor. The costume was in pretty poor taste given whom he suspected was currently in surgery. Would it have killed him to show a little tact?

"It is good to see you again as well, Kiriyama Toshiya." Fon responded, bowing a greeting which he freely returned. "This is an old acquaintance of mine, his name is Reborn. We're waiting on the doctor's prognosis. Reborn, this is Kiriyama Toshiya, he's a police detective stationed here in Namimori."

"Nice to meet you." Reborn replied vaguely, hands petting the little chameleon that was resting on his knees.

"Pleasure. I'm sorry about this Fon-san, but I'm here in an official capacity. Are you willing to take a statement here, or would you prefer to go somewhere more private?" Toshiya asked, grimacing a little.

He sincerely, _sincerely_, hoped that this situation wasn't what he feared it was. That Fon had found his nephew - and then had been forced to drag him out of a burning building. The idea of the kid even _being_ in a burning building was making him break out in a cold sweat at the thought, not only because of how his colleagues would take it, but the kid had been pretty funny in and of himself.

Toshiya had liked him despite his understandable yet unholy standoffish behaviour, that sharp sense of humour had been hilarious. The kid didn't deserve the amount of shit that had happened to him and he most certainly didn't deserve a burning building and surgery on top of it.

He wanted it to be a coincidence, but he knew it probably wasn't. The look on Fon's face was already telling him the answer he didn't want to hear.

"So, I'm just going to get straight to the point, you're here because the boy brought into surgery bears a striking resemblance to Takeru, am I correct? I'm told that you spent some time with him before the accident happened, can you tell me if this is the same boy?" Toshiya asked, producing a printed photograph. One of the ones a certain someone had pulled from the CCTV footage without telling anyone about it, the idiot. They'd had to ransack the jackass's desk for the picture.

Fon accepted the photograph wordlessly, gave it a glance and then gave him a single nod.

Shit.

"Yun called to tell me Takeru had been spotted in Namimori. I found him in that building. He… was so scared. The fire was my fault, if I hadn't-"

"It wasn't your fault." Reborn interrupted. "I'm the idiot that just walked into the situation without thinking, it was my fault."

"Disregarding whose fault the fire is, do either of you think you know how it actually started?" Toshiya interrupted, stopping the game of back and forth of blame-claiming in its tracks. He'd seen this way too many times to witness it again; best stop them before they got started.

Toshiya listened attentively as they walked him through what had happened. Takeru had been in the building, reading through a box of papers. No, they didn't know what was in the box, just that it had been full of files and papers. Did they think the fire had started in the box? No, the fire had started somewhere near the wall. Takeru had tripped and fallen backwards against the wall and had collapsed around the time the fire had started. The box had still been in the middle of the room. Reborn had had a good vantage point, Takeru hadn't started the fire. It had somehow sprung up on its own. Reborn was of the option that Takeru had accidentally hit a light switch when he'd tripped and perhaps the cause of the fire had been faulty wiring? It WAS an old building.

Writing it all down, Toshiya took down Reborn's contact details, snapped his notebook shut and pulled out his phone. "Well, we will be conducting an official investigation into the fire but don't worry, you could very well be correct in thinking that it was an electrical fire. So please, if you could not start playing the blame game until after we figure out how the accident happened in the first place, I'd be very much obliged. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few calls to make."

To the chief of police for one: to get permission to poach a few uniforms to act as guards at the hospital, a few to go investigate the scene of the fire and relay the findings to him. He was just about to put in another call, this one to the Hibari family when both Fon and Reborn straightened up like they'd been hit by lightning.

A tall, foreign, brown haired doctor was walking towards them, pulling his surgical mask down as he headed in their direction. "You are?"

"Detective Inspector Kiriyama Toshiya, I'm here investigating the circumstances of the accident." Toshiya clarified, moving his jacket out of the way so that the badge on his belt was clearly visible.

"Trident Shamal, Doctor." The doctor nodded, "The surgery was a complete success. He's in recovery now and will be transferred to his room when we're confident he's stable enough for it. His life is no longer in any danger, but he has quite a bit of nerve damage; he's going to need some therapy to get him up and running around like a kid his age should be."

An unreadable look passed between Fon, Reborn and the doctor but as a whole there was a release of tension from the room.

"I'm going to have to take a look at his possessions." Toshiya sighed, slipping his phone into the inner breast pocket of his jacket.

Shamal nodded at the nurse who had followed him across the room. "The nurse will show you where they are, if you'll follow her. I need to ask the family a few questions." He said, indicating Fon with a tilt of his head.

Right. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't had his own questions answered. "Lead the way, nurse."

The boy's possessions were nothing to write home about. Two leather cuffs, one of which looked like a bag if he tilted his head the right way. A small box with a decorative porcelain egg in it. A wallet stuffed with a mix of two different currencies, Japanese and British, but with no identification inside. No library cards, not even a debit card. There wasn't even a stray coupon or receipt. Empty of everything save for money, a large amount of it at that!

The clothes he'd been wearing were a bit different; the shirt had a small drying spot of blood near the collar. He finally had something to work with when he turned out the pockets of the boy's jacket and jeans. Amongst the usual junk you'd expect to find in a teenager's pocket, the crumpled up sweet wrappers, a few bits of candy and a bottle cap, Toshiya found a carefully folded paper. Written on it were nearly illegible notes scribbled in an unholy mix of Japanese and English. Website addresses. Street names in Namimori. Locations of specific landmarks. Namimori Hospital, Namimori Middle School, the Hibari Shrine and... four very familiar names.

Hibari Satoshi, Hibari Yun, Hibari Kyouya and Hibari Minoru.

Toshiya felt the hair rise up on his arms and pressed a palm to his suddenly leaking eyes as something occurred to him. They hadn't found Takeru.

He'd found them.

Takeru had been checking out his family before making a move. Doing the exact opposite of what Yun, Fon and Kyouya would have done. Taking after his father and Uncle Minoru in being careful, sneaky and absolutely certain of what he was looking at before getting involved.

Places were crossed off on the list, like the hospital and the shrine. He'd seen that in Minoru's notes more than he could count, that was an indication of a check done. Exactly how long had Takeru been in Namimori casing out his own family?

A look at another carefully folded bundle of papers revealed a list of scrawled kanji. All of them different spellings of his name, most of them crossed out with only the correct one circled a few times and underlined for good measure. A piece of charred parchment with his name and the meaning of it written down in English right underneath it.

A through and systematic investigation, seemingly starting with a name and branching out from there. If there had been any doubt that they had the right kid here, that this wasn't actually Hibari Takeru, this would have dispelled any suspicion. He was so clearly his father's son it nearly put Kyouya's parentage into question; would have if Kyouya's personality hadn't had the classic and distinct Hibari edge to it.

He knew what he was dealing with now; he had a mix of a mini Minoru and Satoshi on his hands. The resemblance had been so strong back at the station that he hadn't known what to do with it, but now he knew exactly how to approach the kid.

Get him somewhere isolated where he couldn't escape. No handcuffs unless they wanted to drive the kid feral, like it had done with his Uncle Minoru, (who'd gone haring off on his own like an idiot). He had to make it clear he knew who he was and that they were going to have a proper sit down talk. No kid gloves. Being dishonest and pussyfooting around would just drive the kid away. Everything about him screamed run-away abuse survivor, which meant they had to give him the truth, a lot of it, not _all_ of it, but make sure the kid knew that there were some things he couldn't be told about.

Above all, he had to make it clear that the kid had options. Options were important when it came to dealing with the Hibari family; they were an ornery bunch and disliked having decisions made for them more than anything. There was nothing worse than a Hibari that felt cornered and he knew from experience that if they made the kid feel trapped he'd bolt again, perhaps with the chance of never being found again.

"Detective Kiriyama? The patient is ready to be moved now, would you like to accompany him to his room?"

"So soon?" Toshiya asked the doctor who'd spoken.

Shamal snorted, the faint shadow of a crooked grin peeking out from underneath the grimace on his face. "You'd be surprised at how resilient children are, they can bounce back from a lot of the things that would lay an adult flat," he remarked flatly, slipping his hands into the doctor's coat he'd thrown on over his scrubs. "I doubt he'll wake up any time before the sun rises but you never know, the kid might surprise you."

"Like he hasn't already." Toshiya snorted, "Lead the way doctor, we'd best not take the chance. He's already slipped away from me once; I'd rather not give him the opportunity to repeat the performance. The little escape artist managed to get out of the police station without anyone spotting him; we'd even had a guard at the door. Half the office is convinced he phased through the walls."

The doctor whistled in appreciation. "Ninja in the making?" the man joked wryly. Toshiya snorted in agreement as the nurse that had led him to the room gathered up Takeru's belongings and followed behind them. When the nurse went to take the papers off him, Toshiya pulled them back.

"I'll hold onto these for now, got to have some leverage with me when we start talking."

Takeru was still asleep when they made it to his bedside, looking so small in the seemingly over-sized bed he was resting in. He was transferred to a fresh bed when they reached the room he'd be staying in, a private room with lockable doors and immovable double-glazed windows.

A quick phone call and he had the few available men the precinct could spare guarding the lift, the stairwell and standing at attention outside the room. Toshiya himself was sat in a chair at the kid's bedside and he wasn't going to budge until the kid woke up.

Where else was he going to find a more suitable place to talk the kid down?

Here was just fine.

OoO

Chapter END~! Finally. Fon is such a stubborn whore, he's the one who stalled the chapter so long this time.

Also some people seem to think the 'stab-chase' thing in the last chapter was a joke? Uh, no. Not really.

Once upon a time in Australia there was a primary school with a group of teenage boys who invented a game called Stab-chase. One of those teens had a younger sibling who now goes by the internet handle Reighost. Kids would run around with protractors, compasses, pens, scissors and broken rulers, chasing the person who was 'it'.

One day Reighost was buying lunch from the cafeteria when a noise was heard and looked up. The roof caved in and a pair of kicking legs was seen dangling from the ceiling. Someone had fallen through the roof, caught a support beam between the legs and was kicking from the pain. The boy who had fallen through the ceiling of the cafeteria was later caught because while he had no plaster dust on him... he was the only boy in school wearing wet pants.

So ends the story of the creation, (and end), of the game known as stab-chase. I figured if a group of idiot Auzzies did it, then Gryffindors wouldn't be too much of a stretch. Especially given that a quick trip to the hospital wing and all would be healed.

Also its five AM and my eyes are gluing shut and burning at the same time, I pulled another all-nighter for you guys so I hope you appreciate it. XD Ima gonna go crawl into bed. If I make it there. If not I'll just sleep on the floor. Whatever.


	12. Chapter 12

Tall fronds of grass, bright warm sun in a bright blue sky speckled with fluffy white clouds. Birds wheeling through the air, sitting in the grass or on the many perches peppering the landscape in every imaginable shape and size. A sweet-scented breeze swept through the grass and lifted the kiting birds further up into the wide open sky.

Takeru was in his own mind, the mindscape Yuuko had cleared so seemingly effortlessly of spells and enchantments. He was free to think and do as he liked and he was ever so sorely tempted to stay here, simply hide away in the peaceful landscape where nothing could reach him. He knew what waited for him the second he let himself fall back into the real, waking world.

An injury like the one he'd suffered meant he'd be taken to either a hospital or somewhere his injuries could be taken care of. He wasn't sure if his Uncle would immediately take him to a hospital or wherever but after that… would come the questions.

Pulling himself together from the sprawled out position he'd found himself in, Takeru sat up and tucked himself up into a tight ball, arms curling around his legs with forehead resting on his knees. It wouldn't take long for people to start asking him questions; he'd be asking them in their place too. Where had he been, what did he remember, who'd had him? He didn't want to answer any of them. Didn't even want to think of it. He wanted to sweep the whole misbegotten mess behind him and throw himself into the promise of this new life.

Would… his family even want him after all these years? What would they do if he refused to answer those questions? What if they… completely rejected him? A very small part of him was trying to tell him he was being ridiculous, he was being a chicken and wasn't he a Gryffindor? Gryffindors didn't sit around worrying over 'if's' and 'but's', they charged straight forward without a plan and got things DONE. For better or worse.

He wasn't a Gryffindor though. That had been the false image Dumbledore had created. He COULDN'T charge in without thinking, not anymore. Look how that had worked out with the cursed object his Uncle Fon had been wearing. He'd stupidly gone to rip it off him, maybe try tossing it in a corner or something, but had gotten his ass handed to him instead.

Maybe he really was the kind of coward who would rather lay comatose somewhere unfamiliar than get cornered by his family, people who had so far given him no reason to think they might reject him. How upset would it make them if he refused to answer any questions?

Probably not as upset as they would be to know the FULL truth about what had happened to him.

Grimacing, Takeru lifted his head off of his knees and stared up into the distant sky where his memories were flying. What had happened to him was something he was never going to share; he would take it to the grave if he had to. If the rest of his family were anything like his Uncle Fon, and again he'd hadn't been given any reason to think otherwise, then… he didn't want to be adding more to the pain they'd already be carrying.

Would he accept that in their shoes? He knew he wouldn't. He'd continue trying to figure it out on his own. He had to have inherited that from at least one of his parents.

If only he'd been given himself more time to figure this all out, let himself come to terms with everything he'd discovered about himself and his family. Let out a little of the grief tearing up his insides and soak in his own lost memories. He'd been doing so well too, he'd managed to case out his family and the town they lived in. If it hadn't been for the idiots he'd run into and his subsequent arrest, he wouldn't have been so pressured—

But then again, there WAS the Locator he'd found, at least he'd managed to destroy that. Silver lining to the whole tangled mess he was now caught up in.

He would keep his mouth shut on absolutely everything that had happened; it wasn't like his family would ever find out anything on their own. Disregarding the taint on his Uncle Fon, the rest of them were Muggles. There was no way they'd be able to figure out who or what he'd been, not without him saying anything.

He didn't want anyone knowing he used to be Harry Potter. He didn't want any kind of connection between who Dumbledore had made him into and who he was now. If the wrong person connected the dots… Hibari Takeru would disappear into Azkaban. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he might be blamed for his part in the role he'd been forced into. Fudge had thrown Hagrid into Azkaban for no other reason than to keep up appearances in his second year at Hogwarts, tossing an 'imposter' into Azkaban would be so easy he could almost picture it happening.

He didn't want to know what would happen to his family if they were caught up in that. Anyone connected to him could potentially join him.

It would drive him crazy not knowing the details of the kidnapping if he were on the other side of that, but what other choice did he have other than keeping his mouth shut? His only other choice was to be as vague as possible, just like he'd been with the twins at their shop. Takeru bit his lip, worrying at it as he slowly relaxed out of the hunched pose he was in and unfolded.

He could do that, he wouldn't even be lying.

Takeru was trying to come up with something believable when parts of the sky above him darkened from its bright azure shade to a dark sapphire. Sections of the grass he was sitting on also lit up in the same colour, as did parts of his surroundings.

"What the hell!?" Takeru yelped as he scrambled to his feet, wildly scanning his surroundings as indigo coloured… flames started flooding into his mindscape. The encroaching flames were coming in from… cracks? Cracks in his mindscape? He hadn't even noticed they were there! Stupid! Now he was going to get attacked— but no, the flames weren't attacking. They'd have surely caught him by now if they had been! Instead they were flooding into the cracks in his mental defences and were just… staying there. Tensing as an area near his foot lit up, Takeru stumbled back, startled into backpedalling away from it.

What the hell was going on?

He stood stock still for a very long moment, eyes darting wildly from place to place, just _waiting_ for the moment the flames would start attacking him. Instead, the small crack near his foot, invisible till the indigo flames had revealed it, started closing over. He wobbled to his knees, sinking to the ground and parting the grass where the hairline fracture in his mindscape had been and managed to catch sight of it as it healed completely over. The last of it closing over even as he watched on.

Mind-healer. He'd been taken to a MIND-HEALER and they hadn't taken a peek inside like any other healer in England would have done.

"_It's all up to you now, kid."_ An adult male's voice echoed through him, startling him into making him pop up from out of the grass to see where it was coming from. _"The choice is all yours."_

Takeru looked over the rest of his mindscape and shook slightly as the voice faded back into the flames. Now that the contrast in colour was there, he could see just how close he was, or had been, to completely fracturing his own mind. He couldn't even tell how much of the damage had been the Oversurge or Dumbledore's meddling. The fractures were all over the place. If it had taken a 'king's ransom' to heal him of the physical and magical damage he'd suffered… how much would Yuuko have charged to fix this?

Then again she HAD given him what he needed to fix the damage himself.

He couldn't sit here forever moping about things he couldn't change… all he could do was pick himself up, move forward and MAKE things better. He might as well start now, and while he was at it, he could think of something to say in response when people finally started asking questions.

The purple skylark Yuuko had given him fluttered out of the flock of birds wheeling above him and into his waiting hand, transforming into the shape of a golden-toned wand as it landed. Takeru caught it and gave it a little spin, testing the weight. The mind-healer had shown him the way, guiding him to where the cracks in his mind were. Taking in the damage with his eyes, Takeru pushed himself up off of his knees and surveyed the extent of the damage.

He had some repairing to do.

OoO

A chorus of angels sounded.

Tsuna jerked from where he'd been trying and failing to fall asleep as he'd long since given up trying to wriggle free of the ropes tying him to the bed. He craned his neck so he could see the corner of the room and stared disbelievingly at the sight that greeted him. Choral music played, white feathers floated around his room and the corner lit up in what he supposed Reborn wanted to portray as holy light.

"I am born anew," his home tutor intoned, tilting his palms up towards the ceiling as if in supplication as a section of the floor opened up and rose to lift him into the room. "You may call me ReBORN."

Reborn had emerged from the hidey-hole under Tsuna's floorboards under a thin smokescreen wearing the costume of a certain Christian holy figure. White robe, red cloak, beard, a child-sized shepherd's crook in one hand. Leon transformed into a facsimile of the bible in the cradle of the Hitman's other arm.

"_YOUR NAME WAS ALREADY REBORN!"_ Tsuna yelled. He didn't know what he should be more appalled with, Reborn dressing up as the religious figure or what he was implying by saying something like that whilst dressed up AS that holy figure. It was like he was ASKING to be cursed! Tsuna knew Reborn had read the thought he was probably wearing all over his face when Reborn's face darkened a fraction. He had half a second to wish he'd never learned to read Reborn's moods and expressions before Leon was transforming.

Oh damn it, he should have kept his mouth shut. He'd been tied to the bed for HOURS already and now he was about to be...

"_**REBORN! GO TO THE BATHROOM WITH MY DYING WILL!"**_

OoO

Shamal ran the tests several more times than he cared to admit, just to be certain the results he got were accurate.

It had been shocking enough to find the boy had been Scorched and very nearly pulled apart by two Skies, but this? If he hadn't run the tests multiple times he'd have thought he'd done it wrong. He had one of the Flame Nurses Reborn had hired for him to make use of run the test a few more times, just to be absolutely certain, and the additional tests yielded the same results.

The two Skies that had been using the thirteen-year-old in game of tug-of-war had been Discordant. Flame users so completely broken that they wouldn't have even been able to form a _Support_ type bond let alone a Guardian bond. Bonding with _anyone_ would have been impossible no matter HOW hard they Pulled and yet they had nearly torn the young Sun in half. Competed over an Element neither of them could even really keep.

The Polarized Sky who had gone Discordant somewhere in his early childhood was somehow _over seventy. _The other was a Classic Sky who had gone Discordant in his late teens... and was currently pushing somewhere over a_ hundred years old_.

Shamal stepped away from the workbench and slammed a fist into a filing cabinet, bleeding off the edge of his stress and curbing his thirst for violence at the same time.

Even now, separated into their own little crystal containers, the flames he'd extracted from their victim were still bristling at each other. Showing signs of Rivalry after who knew HOW long separated from the offenders.

No wonder the kid had been so close to breaking.

The worst part of it all was that he couldn't think of anyone who fit the profiles the test results had just come up with. Skies were so rare that it wasn't very long before they were noticed. There was literally no one he could think of. The oldest Sky he personally knew of was Vongola Nono and EVERYONE would have heard if the man had gone Discordant. Currently, the only Polarized Sky who was anywhere near Discord was Xanxus, Nono's youngest son, but he had a dual Affinity and there wasn't a trace of Storm flames anywhere in that vial.

The Mafia world would have been BUZZING over a Sky breaking but for TWO go unnoticed? For THIS long? Vindice would have gotten involved. Noise would have been made. People would have KNOWN and yet he'd heard absolutely nothing.

Unless they had nothing to do with the Mafia.

How could two Skies so batshit-insane hide themselves away from the Underworld so thoroughly? They would have drawn attention. Hell, the instability of their flames alone would have drawn attention.

"I want someone watching him at all times." Shamal ordered the nurse hovering over his shoulder. "Keep an eye out for a potential collapse of a flame-based healing ability. The second he shows any of the signs, I want to know."

He didn't want to be accused of incompetence, not on this case and certainly not with the reminder of exactly who had asked him to take it on. Most of the heavy weight of Storm flames lingering over the town may have dissipated but there was still a sharp lingering taste of it in the air. It was enough of a reminder as he worked that Shamal felt his hair stand on end when he paused to really think about it. If he hadn't specifically told the kid's Uncle not to 'get in his way' the toddler-sized man would probably be stuck underfoot or hovering over the kid in question.

And nothing about Hibari Takeru made sense.

The Flame injuries alone boggled the mind, and he had just barely scratched the surface. By all rights the kid should not be as _physically_ healthy as he was. Also with how close to the edge he'd been when they'd met at the airport a confrontation like the one that had been described to him SHOULD have pushed him right into Discord, but it hadn't. What kind of will to survive did he have to have to be able to hold himself together under such extreme circumstances?

Pulling his fist out of the dented filing cabinet, Shamal shook the paint flecks off his hand and motioned one of his helpers into retrieving the case of equipment that had been prepared for him. Reborn was footing the bill for this so he might as well use what the nurses had brought with them. He didn't know or care about what kind of strings Reborn had to have pulled to get nurses from the specialized flame hospital in Italy to drop everything to come help him. He was going to make full use of them now that they were here though, them and the equipment and medication they had brought with them. Thank fuck the Sun Arcobaleno had taken a leaf out of Fon's book in this instance and had decided to leave him to his work.

Cases like this were why he was so often driven to drink. Why he always fought so hard against treating any male patients. Not only did he hate the reminders, no matter how loosely they reminded him of his own past, but he absolutely hated working with threatening family members waiting in the wings. As if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. As if the outcome would have been any different, as if he'd have worked any harder without the threats tossed into the mix. Did they KNOW who the fuck he was? If he'd have wanted someone dead, he'd have fucking KILLED them already! He was a _hitman! _Just because he'd stopped taking regular hits did not mean his skills were in any way dulled by 'picking up' his current profession.

Shamal uttered a filthy chain of swearwords under his breath as he compared the newest test results with the last, even though they were absolutely identical. He wanted a drink, he'd had enough brooding, but he didn't exactly have the time or luxury to go drown himself in mind-numbing alcohol. Not with Reborn AND Fon in the same building expecting him to be at his best.

Slipping the test results into the file that had been made up for his patient, Shamal handed it off to the second nurse standing by at the door. He was going to have to go back over everything AND test the kid's blood again at the very least, see if there weren't any nasty surprises he had yet to discover. Go over the x-rays with a magnifying glass to see if the miraculous recovery between Tokyo and Namimori was flame-based or not, because if it WAS, then who knew when that would fail?

If the changes were permanent then he could toss all of that into the file in his head labelled 'Things That Make No Sense', and worry about it if it becomes a problem later on down the line. Hopefully the medical attention the kid had managed to rustle up somewhere in-between the last time Shamal had seen him and now would hold long enough for him to check. Getting the kid back up onto his feet would be just that much more difficult if it was all temporary but damned if he wasn't going to do it.

Snatching up the vials of flames Shamal stalked for the door. He'd promised himself that the two Skies who'd so badly injured the young Sun were going to get what was coming to them, hadn't he? Might as well hand the vials over now. He had no more use for them and if that shifted Fon's focus _off_ _him_ and onto a more _appropriate_ target for the Storm Arcobaleno to threaten, then that was just serendipity.

A nice bit of payback for the reminder of the bullshit he'd dragged himself out of in his younger years, even if it was directed at different Skies. Technically he was supposed to hand over his findings over to the Vindice, but... he had the perfect defence.

He had not one but TWO Arcobaleno breathing down his neck. Who could say no in the face of that?

OoO

"… he's out of surgery and resting now. The doctor said he'd tell us when he wakes up."

Hibari Yun heard the words, knew what her brother was saying but she felt like she was in the middle of one of the worse meltdowns of her life, second only to the time Takeru had been... It took nearly every iota of concentration she could scrape together to stumble into a taxi and garble out her destination. When she finally got to the hospital she tossed a handful of notes in the driver's direction, uncaring of how much she was actually giving the man.

She hadn't even hung up the phone, she heard her brother's gentle voice trying to get her attention, to calm her down or to get her to unscramble. It wasn't working. If it hadn't been for the police officer at the hospital entrance, who took her by the elbow and guided her towards the lift, she wouldn't have been able to find her way to her brother at all.

There were more police officers on the floor of the children's ward, also some more in the waiting room and more guarding the door to the stairwell. Her brother was sitting in the waiting room waiting for her to arrive. Hanging up her phone, she clumsily dropped it into her lap as she sank down onto the chair across for him and buried her face in her shaking hands. As much as she wanted to tear through the hospital corridors until she found out where her baby was being kept, she knew that would only make the situation worse. Takeru had been threatening Discord the whole time Fon had been talking to him and the slightest pressure could have sent him over the edge. It had apparently taken hours to remedy the damage but even after a procedure like that… her son would still be so very fragile.

It was all her fault.

Takeru's last piercing scream echoed in her ears, as it had done practically every day since he was taken. Calling for her. His little hand reaching out to her as her brother's former student got away. She'd been left helpless to move as her son was being stolen right in front of her, half paralysed from taking the hit of Lightning Flames from where it would have ripped right through the wall and into Kyouya's room.

Fon's former student was rotting away in Vendicare. Had she been in any position to do so, she'd have ripped the man limb from limb. Unfortunately for her, the Vindice had caught up with him before she could, and she'd been forced to watch as the only clue as to the whereabouts of her son had ended up getting dragged away in chains. Fon had appealed to them for information and had gotten only one thing in response. Her brother's former student was acting like he knew nothing of her son and protested his innocence to deaf ears, claiming to have absolutely no knowledge of what he'd been imprisoned for.

It had been maddening and insulting; both with that tiny bit of information and that she wasn't able to approach the Vindice on her own now that she'd 'retired' as a hitwoman. Fon had to do it in her stead. That it HAD to be him to approach them regardless as he'd been the one to bargain for protection in the first place. Now here she was, waiting for word from the doctor for when it was safe to approach her son. Unable to do more than sit around and wait uselessly. She couldn't even help with fixing the damage her son had to have suffered coming so close to the edge. She was a Sun user, all she was capable of was healing _physical_ damage and her secondaries were equally as useless. Her Storm and Cloud flames were useful for nothing more than _dealing_ damage.

She could sense the Mist user from where she was sitting. It was an undeniably strong flame, perfect for healing mental damage on the scale her son needed. She didn't DARE try to interrupt whatever he was doing even though a large part of her wanted to run to his location and _scream_ at the man to work harder, SHAKE him into moving faster. That was her BABY! What was he doing moving at such a snail's pace? Was he even attending to her son like he was supposed to be doing?

There were other flames she could sense, muted embers in the room with the doctor. Nurses, her brother had told her. Probably keeping a lid on their flames so as not to further agitate Takeru so soon after his surgery.

Yun clenched her hands into fists and sharply pulled back her own reaching flame, gritting her teeth against the tightness building up in her jaw and throat and fought against the burning in her eyes. She pressed her fists into her face and ground them against the touch of damp leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

She had to be reminded of keeping her flames to herself by strangers. Strangers busy healing her son. She hadn't even realized she'd been reaching out to find the bright little touch of sunlight that had been missing from her life for so long. She'd KNOWN he was in the hospital, known he was being treated for flame damage and she hadn't even been able to hold herself back from that much.

What kind of mother did that make her?

"Yun?" her brother called out to her softly, leaving his seat.

"Satoshi and Minoru, have you told them yet?" She asked, spreading her hand so she could wipe the moisture from her eyelashes with her fingers and thumb. She needed to push that particular emotion away for later. Now was not the time for a meltdown. She may be retired as a hitwoman but she'd worked hard to bring her skills back up to snuff. If she couldn't manage this much then all the work she'd put into getting strong again would just have been wasted. "Where's Kyouya?"

"Satoshi is on his way here right now." Her brother answered, hopping up to the seat next to hers. "I've tried calling Minoru and Kyouya but I haven't been able to get past their voicemail yet."

Which might be a good thing, the time alone would give her some time to compose herself.

"Good. If they don't know anything yet then let's keep it that way." She murmured, voice low enough that the police officers at the entrance to the waiting area couldn't hear her. "They don't have to know how close Takeru came to—" She bit her tongue on the word she refused to associate with EITHER of her children.

It wouldn't happen. It hadn't happened. Takeru had gotten the help he needed and he was home now, she'd protect him properly this time. Protect her family in the way she should have been doing right from the get-go. Her family would never have to know how close they came to losing their youngest before they could bring him home.

"Dàgē?" Yun asked, meeting her brother's russet brown eyes with her mouth set in determination. "I can't do this again," she told him, her eyes growing hot even as her voice remained steady and unwavering, "I can't. I can't lose him again. I lost him once, and I lost you at the same time and I can't- don't leave, not this time, please don't. I don't care what happened before, stay. I forgive you everything, just don't walk away again, don't hide from me, from _him_, from _us_. I can't- I can't handle it alone, not again, never again." She dropped her face into her hands again, breathing deep.

This family was all she had left; she had turned her back on the Underworld in order to make a future with Satoshi. Her babies, her husband, her brothers, they were the ONLY things that mattered to her anymore. Not the house, not the bank account, not even Namimori itself.

"Help me protect them. Please."

Her brother's small hand reached out to curl around one of her fingers, and she looked up and had to tilt her head to the side where he was balanced on the arm rest of the chair. "You won't be alone, not this time and never again, Mèimèi.I still have a lot to make up for." He murmured comfortingly, leaning as far forward as he possibly could to reach her.

Scooping him up off his feet, she buried her face in his shoulder and sank her wandering senses into the warmth of her brother's flame. She could allow herself this moment of weakness. If only to stop herself from the near agonizing ache of keeping her flames locked tightly inwards when the whole of her being was fighting against it.

Fon's flames unfolded around her like a blanket and she was reminded of her childhood, and the tall, protective figure her older brother had been before he'd been cursed. From before he'd started distancing himself from her. Enough really was enough. It was more than past the point in time where she should have started patching up things between them, although maybe the open wound that was her missing baby had kept that from happening.

She was there now. Takeru was home or would soon be, now was where everything could change, where she could build everything up to where it SHOULD be.

Everything started from here.

OoO

Hibari Minoru broke just about every traffic law that existed getting to the hospital, stopping on the way only to collar his older brother into the passenger's seat.

"Hang up you idiot, he's in the hospital!" He snapped irritably, peeling out of the residential area and aiming the police radio at his head. "Call off the search for me and see if you can reach Kyouya, he's got his Dipshit's Club running directionless all over Namimori."

"It's Disciplinary Committee." Satoshi corrected dizzily as he caught the two-way.

"The day they can convince me they're more than the bunch of dipshits your son dragged home is the day I'll start calling them something nicer. If I'd known Kyouya was going to graduate from bringing four legged strays home to two legged ones I'd have moved to America years ago."

"… technically _they_ followed _him_ home."

"Radio. Phone. Use them." Minoru hissed, baring his teeth at red light he was—blasting right through.

"You… might want to slow down—"

"Really? Am I actually hearing you complaining? Do you have a problem with the speed I'm going at?" he growled at his older brother, not taking his eyes off the road he was so VERY skilfully driving down.

Satoshi could bite him. He'd have been driving at the exact same speed if he'd been behind the wheel. He was the better driver out of the two of them, and if Satoshi had actually had a problem with the way he was driving he'd have demanded he take over by now. If he heard a SINGLE word from his brother about not wanting to die before they got to the hospital so help him, his brother could enjoy a reunion with his youngest from the next bed over. No car accident necessary. He had more pairs of tonfas, (confiscated from his nephew) than he cared to acknowledge, he could pull the car over, reach under the seat and just…

Okay. He needed to take a deep breath. He needed to concentrate on the road and NOT get irritated over his brother needlessly sharpening his sarcasm on him. The both of them were tense and wound up. They were closer than they'd ever been to bringing Takeru home in eleven years and Minoru wasn't going to let a bit of stress relieving banter knock him from that course. He'd already messed up once. He'd been so CLOSE to his nephew. If he'd just kept his head instead of losing it then maybe Takeru wouldn't be in the hospital right now. Goddamn it. Takeru would have been _home_ right now. Safe. Not just coming out of surgery. He'd be right where he belonged with him, his older brother and his parents.

He slowed down to take a corner at a reasonable speed and flicked a glance at his brother, listening as Satoshi called the search party off and felt his hands tighten on the steering wheel into a white knuckled grip.

"Satoshi." He gritted out roughly.

"Hmm?"

"Would. You. Put. Your. Fucking_._ Seat. Belt. On."

OoO

When they reached the waiting room of the paediatrics ward Satoshi made directly for his wife and swept her up reassuring embrace, getting a surprising armful of his brother-in-law at the same time. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Fon in _years_, the man had been avoiding him so completely that he'd only seen him maybe a grand total of three times in the last ten years and now here he was. With his wife. Cuddled up to her and presumably sharing in some much needed comfort.

Well, good. It was about time the man pulled his head out of his ass. Avoiding problems never solved anything and it looked like Yun was enjoying the comfort. For that reason alone he'd give the man the benefit of the doubt. He didn't let his wife go, he wanted in on some of that comfort and if he enjoyed the wide-eyed look Fon gave him a little more than he really should have, no one would ever know.

He swallowed down the smirk his mouth wanted to form and sat himself down, settling his wife down on his lap and leaning his cheek on her head. Thoroughly enjoying the sense of discomfort coming from his brother-in-law. Yun hadn't let go when he'd sat them down, she'd just tightened her grip and made them very much into what probably looked like a cuddle-pile from the outside.

"Minoru, come here for a minute." He called, freeing the arm not around his wife's back into beckoning his little brother forward.

"How about, no." Minoru growled from the doorway, sparing his attention away from his ripped sleeve to level him with a flat, narrow-eyed stare. "You've got enough to distract you right there, you don't need me added to the mix."

"I will _always_ need you," Satoshi replied jokingly with face set in absolute seriousness.

He had the distinct pleasure of watching Minoru's face contort at the mind twisting contradiction his statement and facial expression made and hid another smirk into Yun's shoulder.

"Give the man a hug." A drawling, humour-filled voice interrupted. A tall foreign doctor with curly brown hair appearing behind his brother gave him a firm shove, a move Satoshi gleefully took advantage of. With Yun's help he had his little brother tucked right up next to them, adding the police detective to the cuddle-pile. "Congratulations everyone named Hibari, for I come bearing you good news, some not-so-good news, and a gift for one Not-Hibari."

"The good news is that with a bit of rest and relaxation your baby will be well on his way to recovery. I'll check up on him in a moment but I wanted to drop these off before-hand." The doctor said, handing the half-squashed Fon a pair of what seemed like empty vials and a report.

Satoshi felt his wife and brother-in-law freeze at exactly the same moment.

"Here comes the not-so-good news." the doctor said as he took a seat across from them. "When I say he's going to need rest and relaxation I cannot stress enough on how badly he needs it." Satoshi released his brother and took hold of the report his wife was reading through. Yun slipped into the seat next to his, let her brother hop up onto the arm's rest in between them to read the document. It was completely incomprehensible to him, written mostly in medical jargon with what little there wasn't written in what seemed like code, but some of it clearly made sense to the near-frozen siblings.

"I've given him something of a… shock absorber, you could say, but I don't know how well it'll take or how he'll adjust to it, and it isn't something you can completely rely on. It all depends on how well or badly he deals with stress. For the time being, until we can observe his behaviour to come up with a baseline, we need to keep the stress levels around him as low as possible—"

"We can take him home then!" Yun began desperately, letting go of the paper and leaning forward expectantly, half getting up out of her seat. "The hospital isn't very comfortabl—"

"Stop." The doctor interrupted, pinning her with a firm and unyielding look. "I haven't finished yet."

Yun sank back down into her seat.

"This is going to be the hardest part." The doctor cautioned, making sure he had everyone's attention and looking them all in the eye before continuing. "I can't let any of you in to see him until I am absolutely convinced your presence isn't going to completely ruin him."

Satoshi felt the words hit him like he'd been gutted. "Ruin him? What do you mean Doctor—?"

"Shamal. Trident Shamal. Considering his behaviour prior to the surgery, the condition he was in when he arrived in Japan and his history, we can't take _any_ chances with his mental state. I'm told you have another son so I'm sure you're aware of how incredibly delicate a child with our particular… gifts can be. Worst case scenario would be that any kind of confrontation with you could trigger irreversible damage and given his earlier hostility, he could very well likely end up giving himself a fatal injury."

Satoshi felt the blood drain out of his face.

"Please keep in mind that would be the _worst-case_ scenario. I can't promise anything, but so far he's responded very positively to the surgery and didn't fight the treatment. If all goes well you can hopefully look forward to a reunion at any time between a few hours from now and a week." The doctor finished, getting back up off the chair and giving the group of them as a whole another hard and uncompromising look. "Until I specifically say you can, you're not to try and contact him in any way, shape or form." He said clearly, again making direct eye contact with each and every one of them, as if he didn't trust them to follow such a simple request. "Should you try to get around me in any way I'll discontinue treatment and wash my hands of the lot of you. I'll leave with no regrets and you'll have to find a new doctor. Am I clear?"

Satoshi looked around at his family, from Minoru who had escaped back to where he'd been standing when the doctor had pushed him, to Yun sitting next to him and finally to Fon balancing on the arm rest between him and his wife. He read the resolution in their eyes and answered for everyone.

"Crystal clear."

OoO

Kiriyama Toshiya felt the coming talk with Hibari Takeru sit heavily on his shoulders like a solid, physical weight.

So much rode on this single conversation and he wasn't nearly as detached from the case as he should be. He remembered meeting this kid as a baby on multiple occasions, along with his hellion of an older brother, and wondered how much the connection would affect his behaviour. Just having worked with Minoru as closely as he had, and having been familiar with the entire family should have put him far, far away from the case. However, he'd had previous contact with the kid before. Hopefully he'd be a 'familiar' face.

The first thing he needed to do was break through the guard the kid had put up. Because as much as he wanted to bundle the kid right up and get him home to his _real_ family as soon as physically possible… he was dealing with a nearly feral runaway here. It had been in every sarcastic and antagonistic word the kid had spoken and in every defensive line of the kid's body. More importantly it had shown in his behaviour; the kid had bolted the first chance he'd gotten. He was a resourceful little escape artist that was, above all things, _incredibly_ smart.

He'd gotten out of a crowded police station undetected whilst UNDER GUARD, taking full advantage of his discomfort in following the kid into the bathroom. He knew both English and Japanese well enough to write sentences in a seamless jumble of both languages, and if Toshiya hadn't known English as well as he did he'd have gone insane trying to translate the mess. Once out of police custody he'd upped and vanished like some kind of ghost.

Resourceful probably wasn't broad enough of a description for the kid. He couldn't be all that familiar with Namimori; he had evidence of that in the printed out map he'd been scribbling all over, and the kid STILL managed to avoid the bulk of people looking for him. The police, as much of them as could be spared from processing the Momokyokai, then more officers once the gang was dealt with and people were freed up. Satoshi and his network of private detectives and co-workers had also joined in the hunt and Kyouya had also been hunting for his little brother with his merry little band of leashed thugs upturning every hideout, hidey-hole, nook and cranny in town.

He wasn't going to think too hard about the OTHER people he'd noticed searching though Namimori amongst the mess of police officers, detectives and teenage-thugs. Hibari Yun was a strictly off-the-books consultant for the police and he did not want to poke his nose somewhere it would get bitten off. The woman might be lovely and sweet on the surface but Kyouya had to have gotten his insanity from somewhere and it certainly hadn't come from his father's side of the family.

Her and her brother Fon. Every instinct he had said to tread very carefully around them and he tended to listen to his instincts when they sat up and screamed that loudly. All he had to do was look at the woman's first-born to realize WHY. The saying 'still waters run deep', 'don't judge a book by its cover' and 'it's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for', hadn't become sayings for no reason.

He hadn't yet seen either of them flip out the way Kyouya did on a regular basis, but that was not something he wasn't ever going to want to witness. Or trigger. He had a feeling that though the two siblings had a longer fuse… their explosions would be rather a lot more terrifying. And violent. He knew when he was dealing with a pair of wolves. One may have retired to be a very affectionate lapdog, but she hadn't forgotten her origins. He could handle the older Hibari brothers; he did not think he could handle the pissed-off in-laws.

He knew he was letting the stress of the situation get to him as he nearly gave himself whiplash when the door opened and the doctor he'd met before came into the room followed by several nurses. The brown haired foreigner leaned over Takeru's unconscious form, lifted an eyelid, shone a penlight into it and then hummed thoughtfully to himself as he checked his wrist watch.

"Not long now then… Nurse if you could get those blood samples for me while I speak to the Detective?"

"Yes sir!"

Toshiya moved as the nurses moved forward to do their assigned task, getting up out of his chair with the hope that whatever had put the serious look on the doctor's face wasn't bad news. He wasn't sure his heart could handle any more tragedy concerning this case.

"Now, Detective Kiriyama was it? The patient should be waking up in about ten to fifteen minutes. I need to advise you not to overly stress or push him for the answers he may be unwilling to divulge at the moment. If at any time I feel that the patient is reaching his limits I'll have to ask you to leave the room. Am I clear?"

Well it wasn't like he could argue with that, he'd seen for himself just how stressed the kid had been before the accident, he didn't want to think what a burning building and surgery would be like on top of that. "Yeah, it's not like I was planning on hitting him over the head with questions Doctor. I've been dealing with this kid's family for years, if I tried that they'd eat me alive for it."

"I don't doubt it." Doctor Shamal snorted loudly, casually snatching up the patient's chart from the end of the bed and then dragging the chair on the other side of the bed a little ways away from the bedside. The man dropped himself into it with a long, heartfelt sigh and adjusted the curtains so he was half hidden behind them. "Just pretend I'm not here." He said as he gave his wrist watch another check. "You've got about ten minutes till Sleeping Beauty wakes up."

Toshiya blinked. "You can tell that? So accurately?"

Shamal smirked a little as he uncapped the pen he pulled out of a pocket, crossing one leg over the other so he could prop the clipboard he was holding on his raised thigh as he read through the chart. "If he didn't wake up during Recovery then he's set to wake up at any time now. It's good news, I honestly didn't expect him to take this well to the treatment; I thought he'd fight it a lot more than this. I'm not going to complain though, it makes my job so much easier when patients are this well behaved."

"Has he even _been_ awake enough for that?" Toshiya laughed, as he sat back down in chair he'd been using earlier as the nurses backed away from the bed, taking the samples and equipment they'd used to draw blood from the resting teenager with them as they left the room. "Do you always judge your patients before you get to know them?"

"I judge them by their insides; you have no idea how much trouble that saves me in the long run. No idea." The doctor muttered sarcastically as he flipped through the chart and started making additions to the notes. "They're all so much easier to work with when unconscious. I don't have to deal with any of their personal problems or borrow their stress. I can treat them, move on and go right back to enjoying my life. My job is to heal. Nothing more, nothing less. I leave the rest to the more tolerant people of the world such as yourself, Detective."

"You seem very tolerant now, Doctor."

The doctor snorted.

"You don't know me yet."

OoO

Takeru was exhausted.

He let his eyes fall open and was treated to the vision of a dimly lit hospital ceiling, moonlight shining through a single-paned window and the closed door of the room. When his eyes caught sight of the police detective that had questioned him at the police station, he didn't even have the energy to be overly surprised. He almost felt defeated, as if he's spent so much energy fighting against absolutely everything that he'd come across, up to and including himself, that he had nothing left to defend himself with.

He'd been expecting to wake up to a family member but instead it was the detective who'd questioned him after he'd been caught in the brawl that had gotten him arrested. Had he… had his Uncle rejected him? Left him to deal with the authorities to explain what he'd been doing in an abandoned building by himself?

Wasn't that just typical of every adult he'd ever met?

Takeru closed his eyes at the tight feeling welling up in his throat and felt the slick feel of disappointment twist up his insides. Well, he'd tried, hadn't he? He was tired. Of everything. Of fighting. Of running and hiding. Of his own goddamned, high-strung emotional responses and the way he'd had to claw and scrape just to get as far as he had. He done his best and it hadn't been good enough. Fine, let the detective ask him whatever he wanted. He was _done_. He just wanted it all to end.

He wondered what the police would do with him. Would they toss him in jail? Let him go after they got their answers? He'd admit to fighting the gang but he wasn't saying anything of the real reason he'd been in Namimori. If his family didn't want him… then he still had the name he'd used in Diagon Alley. He'd become Blair Riley for real and find some other way to live.

"Hello Jackie Chan, long time no see. Mind explaining to me why we found you in a burning building?" The detective asked lightly as he rose to his feet, pulling back the curtain and stepping forward to switch on the lamp just above his head.

Takeru took barely a second to process that before energy FLOODED his body. Suddenly he had more than enough strength to push himself up, reach forward to grab the man by the lapels of his jacket and DRAG him forward. "There was a kid in there with me! Two! Are they alright? Tell me they're alright!" he demanded, searching the startled detective's face for the answer.

"They're fine! Both of them! One of them already went home and the other is in the waiting room and—Whoa, hey! No! Don't get up, you just got out of surgery!" The detective said, easily snatching him up as he slipped out of bed, and caught him before his legs could fold out from underneath him.

He allowed himself to be scooped up and deposited back onto the bed, flopping backwards with a wrist over his eyes. He'd try that again when his head wasn't spinning quite so much. So, his Uncle… hadn't abandoned him? Also when had the building caught on fire? Had the shockwave that had hit him blasted past him and set something on fire or had he had another magical accident? He couldn't remember but the sheer relief of knowing that he hadn't just killed another member of his family was… unbelievable.

"Which one is in the waiting room?" he heard himself ask distantly. "The one with the long hair or the one with the hat?"

"… The one with the long hair." The detective answered after a pause.

A bright and fierce spark of pure hope licked to life and _ignited_ into a warmth inside him that not even the jaded and sarcastic mental voices he'd been listening to since England could douse. His Uncle was waiting for him, hadn't abandoned him AND he hadn't killed anyone.

"So…" the detective asked, seating himself on the edge of the bed. "Want to tell me what you were doing in a burning building now?"

"It wasn't burning last I knew." Takeru answered with absolute honesty, "I was… exploring. Next thing I know I'm here, wherever here is."

"Namimori General Hospital, you're in the paediatrics ward. Also exploring? Really? You're going to have to do better than that, because if you were just 'exploring' then why would you have these in your pockets?" the detective asked.

Takeru uncovered his eyes and wordlessly accepted the small bundle of papers he'd been adding to all week. The parchment he'd gotten from the twins, the paper from the library in England, the map of Tokyo he'd bought at the airport, the magical one he'd got in Diagon alley, (the tracking spell on it having long since faded), and the papers he'd scribbled on in Tomoeda's net café.

Undone by his own notes. There really was no way he was going to be able to explain his way out of that one. Then again did he really want a way out? Wasn't this the perfect opening? Was he actually going to be brave enough to—

"Admittedly, I had to do a bit of mental gymnastics to understand your notes but I got the gist of it after a while. Also, before you get any ideas about pulling another disappearing act on me… The window has no opening, the door is locked and there are guards outside the door and at every entrance and exit in the hospital. If by some miracle you get past me, you'll have to figure out a way to ninja your way past everyone else. You're sneaky, but I'm prepared this time. You're not getting away from me again. You have two options. You tell me now or you can sit back, listen to my little theory and let me know if I'm close, okay?" The man offered, getting up to adjust the bed so that Takeru was sitting up.

Takeru froze with indecision and after what felt like an eternity the detective sighed and made the decision for him, re-taking his seat on the edge of the bed. "You were canvassing the area. Looking for a spot to park yourself where you wouldn't draw attention. You've already checked out a few places off of your list but not all of them. You're not here to 'explore'. You came here following a lead that _brought_ you here. You're here to find your family. Am I close? ... Hibari Takeru-kun?"

"When… did you figure it out?" he choked out, the sound of someone addressing him by his full name for the first time in eleven years finally loosening his tongue.

"You first." The detective prodded gently.

"… what's the date today?" Takeru asked hoarsely.

"It's still the 25th of June."

"Then… a week ago. I— It was— I was in an accident. I started remembering things and… I found out my name. My _real_ name and… I left." He trailed off as his throat refused to let him continue. A week, he couldn't believe a whole week had passed since… Takeru hastily pinched eyes shut on tears he was suppressing so that they wouldn't escape, he was NOT going to cry.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "When you were first brought into the police station, your Uncle Minoru was there. He nearly tore through the glass to get to you, do you remember the thumping noises you heard while you were in the interview room? That was him trying to fight off everyone who was stopping him from running in and scaring the life out of you. We managed to convince him to wait… see if we could confirm your identity first. We ordered your fingerprints and DNA tested against the samples we have. By the time the tests came back positive you'd already vanished."

One of the sardonic mental voices he hadn't known he'd been listening to, one that told him he could be mistaken about his identity as Hibari Takeru, died. Confirmed by both magical and muggle means, there was absolutely no mistaking it. He was Hibari Takeru and nothing would ever change that.

"Takeru-kun, if you're feeling up to it, do you think you can answer a few questions?" The man asked gently, "What was your… the name you were going by—"

"I don't want to tell you. Or anyone!" Takeru cut the man off before he could ask any more questions, roughly pushing the man's reassuring hand off of his shoulder. "My whole life was one gigantic LIE and now that I've broken out of it I don't even want to think about it ever again! I'm not HIM! I _never_ was!"

Panic rose and his heart started beating faster, a tremble made itself known and Takeru grabbed and held onto his own arms to control the shaking and bent over himself. A part of him knew he was over-reacting to such a simple question but it was a very distant part of him at best. He'd been see-sawing all over the place ever since Sirius had—

"I think that's enough, Detective." A calm voice cut through the rapidly rising tension in the room and the bedside curtain to his left shifted and was pushed back to reveal a familiar face. "Please remember, he just came out of surgery. Stress him any further and you could trigger a collapse."

It was the stranger from the airport, the one who'd busted his disguise as 'Catherine Henderson'. The man got up out of his chair and motioned for the detective to move out of the way, dropping the clipboard he'd been holding into a bracket at the end of the bed as he went and pocketing his pen. The man stepped between the police officer and the bed, and stared the detective down, "Please step outside, I'll ask you return briefly. I need a moment alone with my patient."

"… I'll be just outside if you need anything then." The dark haired detective grimaced, looking pained and regretful as he left.

OoO

Shamal knew the bewildered teenager was staring at him, he'd seen the spark of recognition and stifled a smirk. He could almost SEE the kid wondering if he'd somehow been tracked from Tokyo. He let the kid chew on the idea for a bit as they waited for the police detective to leave the room and fished a penlight out of his pocket.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he shone the light into kid's baffled blue eyes, testing the pupil's reactivity. "Any dizziness? Nausea? … fever?"

The kid jerked at the last one.

"Feverish then? It's not surprising." Shamal murmured as he leaned back, acting as if he'd never met the kid, he'd save that revelation for when the kid could handle it. "You're lucky I happened to be in Japan, the doctors in this hospital don't have the expertise to treat the kind of injuries you came in with. If your Uncle hadn't… asked me to treat you, you'd be in a rather unpleasant place right now."

That 'fever' was the kid's body temperature rising to the level it should be at with the broken flame channels in his body bridged with Mist flames. Flame Actives naturally had a higher body temperature than most and the shift to Useful boosted that a few degrees. Hibari Takeru probably hadn't felt his flame run that smoothly since it had first started manifesting, or given the state of his flame he'd probably never felt it. It was now running through him the way it should have been doing right from the start, he'd get used to it soon enough. The kid was already so alert and cognitive that it wouldn't take very long.

Straight from the moment he'd woken up, the kid was stable enough to unconsciously draw on his flames, a steady and even flame. 'Taken well to the treatment' would have been an understatement. The odds of it happening were about the same as a paraplegic coming out of surgery capable of tap-dancing merely hours later, but it wasn't unheard of. It was rare enough though to make Shamal want to raise his eyebrows in surprise. The nurse stationed outside the boy's hospital room, a Flame User sensitive enough to monitor the teenager's health from a discreet distance, had given him the all-clear.

The kid had shown no sign that he was relapsing, rejecting the treatment and hadn't even displayed any signs of a degradation of his current condition. It was one of the reasons he'd let the detective begin his questioning, he still needed to test exactly how stable his patient's mental state was. Another reason he'd let the detective into the room was if the man DID manage to step on a raw nerve, which he eventually had, he'd be able to step in and play the 'good cop', redirecting and defusing any tension or aggression.

"Now, you might feel a little odd for a few weeks as your body adjusts, but I need you to take it easy." He started, "Eat, as much and as often as you can stomach. Rest and relaxation are absolute top-priority. I'll see you again for an appointment in two weeks so I expect you to have gained some weight next time we see each other. If nosy adults start pushing you for questions you don't want to answer, then don't answer."

"… should you be telling me this?" the boy asked slowly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"My ONLY job is to get you healthy again. As far as everything else, all the little details everyone else is dying to know? It's none of my business and frankly people shouldn't be pushing you at all. If you don't want disclose anything, that's not my decision… _It's all up to you now kid, the choice is all yours." _Shamal stressed as he twirled the penlight in his hand and made it vanish with a quick flash of Mist flames.

Hibari Takeru boggled at the display. "You—!?"

"Know the value of keeping secrets, yes." Shamal smirked pointedly as he leaned back on his heels, tucking the penlight into a pocket of his coat. "One more thing before I go fetch the detective…" he said, reaching forward to press two fingertips to the kid's forehead. "Feel this heat?" he asked, channelling a bit of flames into the kid's system while maintaining eye-contact with the kid. "No more using that until I expressly give you the go-ahead. You came very close to shattering yourself today and I'd rather you not ruin all my hard work and have to patch you up again."

The dark haired boy reached his hands up to press tentative fingers to his own forehead when Shamal pulled away and nodded, seemingly struck speechless.

"I'll start teaching you how to use it when you're ready for it." Shamal promised as he started walking to the door. "For now, we're going to keep this our little secret. Okay?"

"… okay."

Shamal let himself out into the hallway.

"Are you always that graceful when questioning traumatized kids or is today special?" he asked sardonically as he closed the door behind him. "Cause I have to say that was _quite_ the impressive performance. Round of applause people, we've got a REAL detective in the house~!" he mocked, giving the man a few slow claps. "Is subtlety just something that's completely beyond you? What part of 'don't push him' did you not understand?"

Detective Kiriyama crushed the unlit cigarette he was fiddling with and turned away from the window he'd been broodily staring out of to send a weak glare in his direction. "I'm well aware of my mistake, Doctor, there's really no need to rub it in."

"There is _every_ need to rub it in." Shamal corrected, fighting the urge to sneer into the man's face, choosing to stare down his nose at the police officer instead. "You almost sent the kid into a panic attack, when he _just_ came out of surgery. Excuse me if I'm not in a very forgiving mood, I'd rather not spend the next few hours fixing him again if you actually manage it when I let you back in. No more questions. I don't care what you want to ask him, he's not ready for it."

"I— I guess I deserve that, I did get a little ahead of myself, even though I know better than to press so early in a case I just... I just wanted to get him home. I suppose you think it's too early to ask if he wants to meet his parents?" the man asked, tossing the crumpled cigarette into a nearby waste bin and then running restless hands through his short brown hair.

Shamal frowned. "I'll have one of the nurses return his belongings, that might calm him down a bit. Wait until she gets here before going back in, give him a bit of time to relax. You can go back in answer his questions and let HIM lead the conversation—"

"This isn't my first rodeo, Doctor; I know what I'm doing!"

"Could have fooled me."

OoO

Takeru didn't know how uncomfortable he was in just the hospital pyjamas, a light grey wrap-around shirt and a pair of thin trousers, until he was handed a folded stack of clean clothing. He recognized the clothes he'd been wearing before his ill advised attempt of ridding his Uncle of the cursed artefact he was wearing, (except for another wrap-around hospital garment, his other shirt must have been a casualty of the fire). He took a shower, changed into the new pyjamas that had been included in the bundle and shrugged into his jacket afterwards.

He wiped the fog away from the mirror with his sleeve and stared at the pale face. He didn't think he was ever going to get used to seeing that when he looked into a mirror. The reflection was too young to be him, too short, the hair was too neat and the eyes were _blue_. The features were so different from what he was used to looking at that it set the hair on his arms to standing on end the longer he stared at the stranger in the mirror.

He turned his back on it, closed the lid on the toilet and sat down on it, busying himself with zipping up his hooded jacket. He pushed away the unease and made sure the sleeves fit snugly over the leather 'cuffs' he was wearing. His belongings had been returned to him, more importantly… he had his wand and satchel back. Not that anyone had known exactly what they were giving back to him. It was everything he owned in the world and they didn't even know it.

It was also… the potential for freedom from the cage they had him trapped in.

Takeru licked his lips and rubbed his left thumb over the leather of his wand holster, the temptation to pull a repeat of his escape from the police station was strong. All he'd have to do was pull out his invisibility cloak and—

"Hibari-sama?" the nurse's voice called through the door. "Are you alright? Do you need any help getting dresse—."

Takeru kicked the bathroom door in irritation.

He instantly regretted it. He'd been pretending to still be in the shower, leaving it on as he got dressed to give himself time to think and decompress where expectant adults weren't giving him badly concealed looks of concern. Now he'd given the act away, or at the very least signalled that he was finished with his shower.

When had he gotten this short-tempered? Maybe it had something to do with how the nurse kept hovering over him, her near-simpering and fawning attitude was grating at his every nerve. He was not _that_ weak, he did NOT need her help in getting clean, and he certainly did not need her help getting dressed _thank-you-very-much!_ He got up and wrenched the shower tap off and sat himself back down with an ill-tempered grumble, folding his arms and stubbornly leaning back against the toilet's water tank. He wasn't getting out of the bathroom till he was good and ready to get out. Let them think he was getting dressed.

Feeling a little tug on his magic, Takeru blinked, startled out of his irritable mood, and unfolded his arms to reach into his jacket pocket. He smoothed a hand over the egg he found there and felt a little of the tension in him drain away with the magic that was being siphoned off of him. "I'm sorry," he murmured to the unborn baby familiar inside. "That's probably not a very pleasant emotion to feel from me…"

Thank god no one had actually touched it even though several people admitted to opening the box he'd been keeping it in to check what was inside. The possibility that someone might have touched the egg had genuinely terrified him. He'd bolted into the bathroom the moment he'd gotten it back and he'd spent the first five minutes of his 'shower' carefully checking it. Luckily none of the people who'd admitted to touching the egg's box had actually been lying. The egg had sported none of the tell-tale signs of spoiling, the dark spots Yuuko had warned him to keep an eye out for, and it had been as pristine as the day he'd received it.

Lucky, he was so very lucky.

Feeling around for the slippers he'd been given along with his belongings, Takeru slipped his feet into them and shuffled to his feet. As tempted as he was to run and find a way to retake control of everything… his Uncle was still in the waiting room. Or had been last he heard from the detective. Would the man-turned-toddler still be waiting for him? How long had he been waiting there anyway? It had to have been _hours_ since the confrontation in the abandoned house.

Vernon Dursley wouldn't have waited five minutes.

He wiped the mirror down again and gave his reflection one last look, taking in the lost-looking kid in the over-sized pyjamas, looking rumpled and tired with his jacket sleeves pulled over his knuckles. Digging his toes further into the stupidly large slippers, Takeru looked away from the uncomfortable sight and raked the wet hair out of his eyes. Was he even ready to try meeting his Uncle again? As himself rather than the standoffish persona he'd put on when he'd met the man earlier?

Damn it, he was doing it again! See-sawing between emotions and desires like some kind of nutcase! He'd been so desperate to meet his Uncle when he'd first woken up and now he was trying to talk himself into backing out of meeting him again? He was going crazy! He had to be, no one was this wishy-washy over something so important! He was hiding in a freaking bathroom! Why was he doing that? Was he going to spend the rest of his life acting like a scaredy-cat? Running away from everything that terrified him?

No, no he _WASN'T!_

He lunged for the handle of the bathroom door and wrenched it open, startling the nurse hovering near the door and wobbling as he over-compensated for the unexpected give of the door. He'd been expecting a little more resistance than that! The nurse held out her hands to stabilize him but he ducked away, unwilling to get so close to anyone who reminded him so much of a fawning Pansy Parkinson. The woman acted exactly the same way his old year-mate had when around Malfoy and the cooing made his skin crawl. He side-stepped the woman's attempt to help him dry his hair and pointedly dried his own hair with the towel, acting as if he thought she'd been trying to hand it to him. He could dry his _own_ hair.

He turned away from the disappointment on the woman's face and gave his hair a rough rub, handing the towel back to the nurse with a mumbled 'Thanks' afterwards. Damn it, where had all that gumption gone? He'd fully intended to just march right up to the detective and ask the man if his Uncle was still waiting for him but he'd been derailed by the nurse.

Slinking back to the bed, Takeru sat down on the edge facing the waiting detective and stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets to hide them, trying to build up his flagging courage again. Was this the Oversurge making so crazy? He hated it. Hated the way he couldn't control his own emotions. Just in case it _WAS_ he made sure his fingertips were brushing the surface of the egg in his pocket, he did not want an accident happening right now; he had enough on his plate.

"I— Is he still waiting?" Takeru stuttered, biting his lip at the wavering in his voice. God he sounded pathetic. "My— the long haired… kid. Is he still in the waiting room?"

"He is, he's been waiting since you went into surgery." The detective answered promptly. "He's also waiting with your parents and your Uncle Minoru. They're all very eager to meet you."

Takeru felt his hair on his arms stand on end as a shiver raced through him. His parents! His Uncles! His family were waiting to meet him?! Had been waiting this whole time?

He felt hot and then cold and then fell somewhere in between, it was like he was trying to find his balance in a world that was so weirdly topsy-turvy that it was suddenly giving him everything he'd ever wanted. After so long of it just taking, and taking, and _taking_! He was scared, excited and almost dizzy with an emotion he hadn't felt in what felt like forever. He almost felt like he might be dreaming, would have if his heart hadn't been threatening to thump its way out of his chest to continue its heart attack on the floor.

"Breathe!"

Takeru sucked in a huge breath and stared into the serious brown eyes of his doctor, who was suddenly standing right in front of him. The man had his hands on his face and was making him look up so he could maintain eye-contact. "Easy~ no need to panic now! You don't have to meet them just yet if you don't want to." The man said breezily, pinching his cheeks and pulling at his face to get his attention. "You can go back to sleep for a bit and meet them in the morning if you want to or whenever. Remember? The choice is all yours. Do what you want and not what you think everyone else wants." The man continued, letting go of his cheeks to dig his knuckles into his temples. "No stressing yourself out! Doctor's orders!"

Takeru swatted the hands away from him and rubbed at his cheeks; yeah he'd probably needed to get jolted out of that particular panic attack but had it really been necessary to pinch at his face? "Doctor… um, what was your name?"

"Trident Shamal." The doctor smirked, giving him a mock-bow.

"Doctor Shamal… do you think I could meet them? My— family? Can I meet them?"

The smirk on Trident Shamal's face faded into a serious look. "You think you can handle it?"

Fair question, he had almost stopped breathing just then. No, he wasn't going to give up now, he'd come this far, he wasn't going to back down now! "No— I mean YES! Yes, I want to meet them!" he corrected himself. "Please!" he added on as almost an after-thought.

"Did you want them to come meet you in here or do you want to go out and meet them?"

"Out." Takeru answered instantly, not wanting to spend a moment longer than he absolutely needed to in the closed-off hospital room he'd felt so trapped in.

"No running off now." The detective joked as he practically leaped to open the door. "I'd rather not have to explain another escape to your parents."

"So you'd rather explain why you're treating him like a criminal instead?" The doctor snapped back, "Dial it down, _detective_."

Takeru smothered a laugh into the sleeve of his jacket, partly amused, partly hysterical but mostly just really, really nervous. Walking behind the detective, he almost felt like he was hiding behind the man as he led him down the corridor. The wide corridors of the hospital were silent. The other rooms they passed were closed with either the occupants asleep or left opened with the rooms empty and dark.

The police officers that had been standing guard at the door followed them, flanking the detective on both sides, giving him further cover to hide behind. The doctor followed their group at a lazy stretch behind them, face settling into a half-irritated scowl when a male nurse joined him to hand over a clipboard as they passed the nurses' station.

Because of the way he was half-hidden behind the detectives and the police officers, he saw his family before they saw him. His memory of all of them were old, and he hadn't been able to see them very clearly from the glimpses he'd gotten of them when he'd been sneaking around, checking his family out, but now…

His father was a tall, clean shaven man with his jet-black hair trimmed into a neat style that was a bit shorter than Takeru's hair currently was. He had a narrow jaw line and his eyes were a sharp grey colour that one wouldn't typically see in Asians. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie with a tan coloured greatcoat worn over the top.

His Uncle Minoru was taller than his father, standing about half a head taller, but the family resemblance was utterly unmistakable. His wore his hair at the same length as his brother and had the same grey eyes. He currently looked a little like he'd been mugged somewhere on the way to the hospital only to escape with no injury. His shirt was rumpled and the sleeve was ripped near the shoulder, his tie was hanging loose and lopsided.

His Uncle Fon really was waiting for him with everyone else, looking exactly the same and still wearing the cursed object around his neck.

Finally, his mother was a lovely looking woman with her long, slightly curling black hair tied back in a thick ponytail that reached past her hips. Her hair framed her face with a straight fringe with slightly longer bangs on each side. She had a very pretty face with a thin, narrow nose, full lips and bright blue eyes that—

Locked right on him.

"_Takeru?" _his mother breathed in sharply, a high-pitched whisper that echoed through the hallway as she got up. She stumbld a few steps forward as if in disbelief.

Takeru felt his feet glue themselves to the floor and he froze like a deer in the headlights.

Tears welled up in his mother's eyes and her trembling hands rose up to her mouth in shock. She took several more steps forward so that she was standing in front of him and the police officers moved out of the way for her. His father and Uncles froze as well and all eyes were riveted to the scene playing out in front of them.

"_**I'M SO SORRY!"**_ She sobbed, dropping down onto her hands and knees so she could bow, her head already so close to touching the ground that Takeru had to lunge forward to stop her.

"NO!" he yelled, hand shooting out before her forehead could make contact with the linoleum and pulling her upright, dropping to his own knees. He felt the violent tremble wracking through her as he levered her upright and threaded his arms around the woman's neck, pushing forward and pressing his suddenly wet cheek against hers as the world blurred. "No!" he repeated fiercely, closing his stinging and streaming eyes as arms folded around him and tightened. "It wasn't your fault! I promise you it wasn't your fault! I'm sorry it took me this long, I'm so sorry! If I had just noticed something was wrong _earlier_—"

More arms tightened around him and a hand raked upwards through the back of his hair. Takeru managed to open his eyes long enough to realize his father had joined them and reached his hand out to grasp at the man's sleeve with a shaking hand. His father's arm moved for a bit, snaking out to yank someone forward and his Uncle Minoru fell forward into the tangle; a moment later his mother pulled in his Uncle Fon.

A series of pained grunts, several thumps, and the sound of a door breaking somewhere down the hallway sounded and a pair of feet came thundering down the hall. "_Move_, herbivores or I'll BITE YOU TO DEA—" a voice threatened before abruptly cutting off.

Takeru wiped his vision clear with the edge of his jacket sleeve and turned around in his mother's arms. _"Takeru!" _A teenager of around roughly fifteen years of age abruptly dropped the pair of tonfa he'd been brandishing and stalked forward, reaching into the group to pull him up out of his mother's lap and folded him into his arms.

Takeru felt himself unravel, and this time he couldn't have stopped the tears he'd been holding back for anything.

He was finally home.

OoO

Chapter END. Oh my holy CRAP. Finally.

I… I am dead. Excuse me while I go roll away and curl up in a ball somewhere. This was freaking exhausting to write. I don't know how many all-nighters I pulled getting this chapter out but, yikes. This one was the most intense chapter I've ever written for anything TO DATE.

This is why updates take so long peoples. It ain't easy writing something like this.


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